Good job, champ

Lately I’ve been staring at my ceiling
Thinking daily, pondering the feeling
That you hate me
And how that makes me feel
I’m uncertain that you ever cared or thought that love was real
But I still find a million reasons to keep the things you left behind

Like the letters that we wrote your first semester in the fall
Or the pictures in my closet that used to hang upon my wall

They’re still not gone
You wouldn’t expect that would you?
You didn’t expect that did you?
I can’t blame you, I never thought I’d keep them, after all
And after all I was the one who had to finally make the call

I had to leave, you didn’t love me for me
Why can’t you see, you didn’t love me for who I am?