I did something bad today. I made her suffer. I dragged her along the past of time. I wanted her to see. I still wanted her to see, the pain that she caused me. But she would not see it. She did not. So I took her new boyfriend's car keys and ran away. It was sneaky. It was mean. But I wanted her to come back. I wanted her to come back. She came back. With him no less. I made him listen to me, as an old man telling a war story to his grandchild. About her. About the wretchedness she put me through. How she stole my heart. How she stole my best friends. How she stole my first kiss. How she stole me. He listened, I doubt he understands. I think he thinks he can do it. I wish him all the best. But I have a feeling he will fall, just like me.

I do not question pain anymore. It lives in me. I know how it feels. Down to the very core. Down to death's door. I try to stand. And I will. The pain will go away. I surely will be stronger. I do not need to tell anyone about my pain. Only God knows. Only God heals. I will suffer alone. 

Nice guys finish last. 

Being nice to everybody seems perfect to everyone

until you meet the one,

the one who will admire your kindness,

and say great affectionate things,

and encourage you to be nice to the one. 

The one,

Until the one leaves,

and all your kindness is spent, 

and you are left with nothing, 

it doesn't matter. 

It doesn't matter that you have friends,

 it doesn't matter that you could find someone else,

you don't feel like a predator,

 you feel like a fool. 

A fool with a heart like uncooked batter.

Mess, less and useless.

Nice guys may have every friend in the world,

because they treat everyone the same. 

But now, they treat everyone the same,

with a tinge of fear and doubt.

And no one knows, except oneself,

what it is about.

And when it all boils over, and everyone leaves.

That's it.

One is dead last. 

last, and stuck, in the past.