That Should Be Me

I have this friend - one that can fit
as anyone's dream guy. It was you.
You were that man everyone longs for -
one that opens the door, pays the date,
one that would make you feel secured.
And yet, we forced each other behind the friend zone,
and convinced ourselves to remain there.

I am that friend who you would tell stories
of different kinds. You told me your first heartbreak,
your second heartbreak, and even your potential third one.
You would tell me your lonely days.
When you hate your mom.
When you hate our friend.
When you hate yourself.
I was your comfort zone. Only your comfort zone.

For the first time, I confessed.
You told me I have the chance. It gave me hope.
But since you have been in pain, you were not ready.
But you met this girl with purple hair days ago.
Her name is "Ice" but she is your new source of warmth.
Warmth that I could have been giving you.

Since then, all I heard were your stories of her,
and you would laugh all day; you would worry
when she doesn't reply back; you would lose your strength
when she is sick; and you would endlessly tell me these.
And it breaks me. We are always together and I can feel
you secretly cheering for her and there I am, in envy,
secretly hoping I am her.

Moments after my confession, I felt a pinch of regret.
I should have said this much earlier.
I should have told you I would wait.
But I was prideful. I was too nice.
I don't want to cause you pressure, and so
I choose pain. I choose to long.

We can't blame fate.
I blame myself.
For being too ambitious.
For wanting more.

- 2Pen