Sam called my thinking silly. In some way, I agree. Yet, I resent him for telling me so despite its truth.
I rationalize it saying that it\’s because he made me write, he made me think. In these kind of things, thinking too much is bad.
Sam often does that though and as a result I keep losing trust in him. I can\’t rely on him to be a good friend. Tough love may be helpful, but when I seek compassion, it makes the ordeal even more painful.
It seems that he is slightly resentful too that I don\’t accept his advice or his ways. But that\’s not what I want to do.
I write lyrics for him. I write to relieve my own inner turmoil and somehow it\’s just not enough. It\’s never enough.