I don't think you know why everything is such a joke with me. I can't tell if it's because I'm a joke? Or because I just don't want to kill myself. Or maybe because I'm constantly worried that I'll never get the approval of your mother.
Maybe I'm just confused because in the morning you want to marry me but at night you say you don't feel lucky to have me, because it was just a dream you had where I was perfect.
A dream where I was perfect and brought you flowers.
A dream where I physically didn't need sleep, and could stay up with you until 5 am like I used to.
A dream where I wasn't who I am now.