The river flows in you

There are so many questions I would like to ask you, but I know I'll never do it.
Is this the way you saw us turning out? Is this what you had in mind?
Don't get me wrong, I don't want to go back, not now. Too much has been said and done and it's just not what I want to do anymore.
But at the time? You were what held me together. It was the best time I had ever spent. And as much as you hurt me, and as much as I hate the way it all happened and how much I say that it didn't matter and it didn't count, I can't deny that it did. I can't deny what it meant to me; what you meant to me. No one has ever been as sweet to me as you were. Even now, after all is said and done, I get these amazing glimpses of what we were, and of what you were for me. And at first I thought it was pain, or hurt, but it's not. It's just me remembering what you were.
Do you regret it? If you knew this is how we'd end up, barely talking, awkwardness, barely friends, would you have done it differently? Would you have given us a go? Or not given up so easily? Would you have listened to me and done what we knew was right? What we knew would work?
But I guess, if it was different, then it'd all be different. For better or for the worse do you think? You wouldn't be depressed. I wouldn't be alone.
But you're not the guy I'm meant to end up with. That much I know. So what good would it have done really? To last a little longer? A few more months of happiness? Maybe you would have been right. Maybe the pain of being together apart would have been more than being apart in all senses of the word.
Do you think we were worth a try though? At least worth the effort of giving it a go?
Do you regret the way you did it? Do you wish it could have been a sweeter, more tragic break-up? Do you think we were worth more than a few text messages after a night of too much tequila?
Do you remember our last kiss on the beach? A fleeting peck, thinking it'd only be 3 weeks before we saw each other, not months apart. If you knew we'd be over 3 days later, would you have made it mean more?
Do you know how hard it was for me? I held onto my best friend for hours and still felt empty. My chest heaving, my throat closed over, but not being able to produce a single tear for you. Not wanting to accept it was true. Writing that letter to you in a hotel in Anaheim. Your cold reply.
Do you remember the weekend in February? The weekend that I re-fell in love with you, fell out of love with you, and in love with someone else? Too much rum, too much tequila and a walk across the hall. The most confusing, best weekend of my life.
I've tried to hate you. I've tried to ignore you and cut you out of my life. But I can't. I still care about you and what happens to you. I can't hurt you more than you already are.

At times I've thought that in 30 years time, you might be forgettable, that I'll forget you existed.
But they're right. You don't forget your first love, and as much as I try to deny it, you're him.

Torn me up and pissed on the pieces

What do you do when you're told that you're the one person you've spent your entire life trying not to be. When everything that you do is spent trying to avoid being that one single person, and then the person you love and trust the most tells you that you've turned into that bastard.
I spend every minute of every day trying not to be him. Every ounce of my being is against everything that he is, yet she tells me it's all for nothing; that I'm the exact same as he is.
There is no deeper way to hurt a person. No other way to destroy everything they believe in and everything that they are.
I could have been a great person, and he destroyed that. He changed me and manipulated me to be exactly what he wanted to be. And then left me with the person who hates him the most.
"I try so hard not to be him. I don't want to be him. I hate him"
"Well I hate to tell you, but that's exactly who you are"

Thanks for ripping my soul out.