Love is blind, and Fate is Fickle. After all is said and done, do you of think of me so little?
Love can make you stupid, blinding you to what's in front of you. Did you love me? Care for me, even just a little?
Or was I just used? A naive plaything to come back to cause she stays. Every. Single. Time.
A girl so dedicated, she almost lost herself for him.(Didn't she already?)
You must think me so blind, so easy. So trusting and so cheap. Starving for your affection, your reciprocation.
That night, I asked you. The first and perhaps last dance. Was it just me or was there truly something in that glance?
Was it just me or did the hug you initiated mean something?
Were the words you said true or were they all lies. Lies to fool me, lies to make my heart beat for you?
A fool I must be, to hope for these things. A fool I must be, for breaking myself down.
(After all, Insecurities drag Confidence down.)
I have a skewed sense of self-worth and yet I still yearn for the stranger in my heart.
Now I ask you, do you think of me so little?
