Don't Get Any Big Ideas

Oh, what I would give to pick you apart and see how exactly you tick. You always have been able to get the best of me. You're pretty fucked up, but that's what I like most about you. I just never could get enough of it, and I think I spread myself a little too thick from the get-go. I'd love to go back and do it all over again... you know, relive the golden years knowing then what I know now. I'd have you; I know it. I don't really care about "having" you, though. That's never been the point of this. I'm stupid for making it seem that way. I just wish you saw things the way I do. I want you to be closer than this. You don't, and that's probably my own fault. I don't know what's best for you, but I've always dedicated myself to being whatever it is you need, and I guess that's just a friend. I am here for you, however you want me.