Sure, I say, I'm better. I am strong and I don't need you right now, so I will never need you, and things will always be like this. I melt, toward the end, I get needy and selfish and stupid, I lose myself. Hate it. Never mean to. I keep hoping, saying, insisting, this time it will be different, we will be different, he is different and I am different, and it's true, but it's not the whole truth.