They say that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve always believed in that. But here you are, leaving me dazed and at a loss. I’m collecting all the fragments that you’re leaving behind everytime you come and go. I’m trying to piece it all together, but it’s somewhat exhausting figuring you out. There's nobody quite like you. But I'm thinking that maybe you could make things okay. I wonder if this matters at all. Maybe we’re all the same to you.
