Love's an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. Do you like to hurt?

I do, I do.
Than hurt me.

I've been in such a bad mood almost all day.
It started out okay.
I went out with my mom and it was nice.
For a while.
Then I had time to think.
Too much time to think.
'Cause my mom was shopping and looking around.
I sat on the floor of Bed, Bath and Beyond, by the curtain.
And I cried.
Only a little bit.
But still.
Crying?
In public?
Come on.
Even I'm bigger than that.
Or so I thought.
I'm so confused.
I don't understand why suddenly everything feels so strained.
I'm afraid that if I say something wrong, I'll lose you forever.
And you know I don't want that.
You know I'm upset.
As much as I deny it to you.
You know it's true.
So why do you let me keep telling you I'm fine?
Is it because you know why?
And you don't want to face it?
Maybe I should talk to you.
But what would I say?
I'm to picky with my words.
It all needs to be perfectly said.
I don't want anything to come out wrong.
I don't want to give you the wrong idea.
But that'll be pretty much impossible.
Because no matter what I say I know you won't take it very well.
And that scares the shit out of me.