Dreams aren't perfect.

I kinda have alot on my my mind. I kinda have alot of you on my mind. And I can't quite find a way to get rid of these thoughts. I'm so sick of it, of all of it. Of how little I meant to you, and how much you meant, and still mean, to me. Somebody told me that when it seems too good too be true, it usually is. And it was. You are. You are everything I had my mind set out searching for ever since I was little. You were this idealistic beautiful person, and you wanted me. You wanted me for one thing though, when I wanted all of you.