I have held my head up high for half the year.
I smiled and brushed it off as if it was dirt on my hands.
Changed the subject as if it was boring me.
Left the room to brush my hair only to avoid conversation.
They told me a story and it was relating to you.
They asked why did it end?
My brother looks at me as if to see if I'm okay with answering these nonsensical questions.
He knows these stories and questions tug on my heart strings.
Then they say "oh yeah, he can't talk to you"
As I said, my head has been held high for half the year,
but they're waiting for it to fall.
They're waiting for the blob of tears to crash out.
"No, I just let him go"
That's all I came up with.
I didn't fight to be with him.
He didn't fight to be with me.
We had a story and it ended,
Truth is he let me go because he lost a fight.
