He is a distraction when I see him that way, you know, that way.
From what I want, which is, to feel okay.
I don't want misery,
But that's exactly what I get, when I aim for that height of intense pleasure,
When there is no target but someone who doesn't fit the projection.
My attempt only fails, and I am left bereft, and it's not right to be mad at him.
Society tells me that he is supposed to give me that man thing,
But I know it's not so.
I know from my own emotions it's not right to blame someone for disappointing me,
When it is I that set up my expectations,
Believing what was fun to believe,
Being reckless, not seeing that I would crash,
And who could I blame?
Isn't it a cliche?
Point at him and tell him to be a man?
I point at my projection, my delusional mind, my desperation and refusal to see the signs,
That he's just not that interested,
In playing the role I want him to play.
Why should I be angry at him?
I don't get what I want and this means I should be angry at everyone who won't metamorphous into,
Exactly what I want?