I was always attracted to things I couldn't have.
I guess that makes me a masochist.
I used to didn't know, what it meant to quit.
I used to fight for something if I really wanted it.
But I got tired.
I got exhausted and discouraged when my efforts got ignored
and now I can't go back to the naive person I was before -
the one who believed that love was worth fighting for.
I say I'm over this feeling, and yet here I am back again.
Of course I would fall for someone
that is out of my league, out of my stratosphere,
on a different wavelength, the type to ask "what are you doing here?"
But I always saw potential
in the girls that never so much as looked my way
convinced I could convince them if I just found the right words to say
I just kept it genuine - spitting game was never my forte
Yet every time I went after them, they simply laughed or pushed me away
And from a distance I watched them weep, since they wouldn't let me close
as others broke the things I wanted because they things THEY wanted, were poorly chose
Maybe it's easier to select the types
that I know will shut me down
because I've gotten used to the rejection every time I come around
And maybe I like the heartbreak even as I complain
because I've grown complacent and don't think things will ever change.
You can't make somebody love you, but maybe you can make them take notice
Just like Gatsby from across the sea, reaching out at his object of longing
knowing there was so much time he'd lost, but hoping that his belongings
would make her look in her direction, if only for a moment's time
to capture her gaze forever. So, too, was that desire mine:
to captivate and stimulate this lovely thing, this beautiful Green Light
that I knew would never notice me. And yet, I foolishly persevere and try.
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