That Way Gone

I'm walking away. My heart still intact. The ride has been fun, but now I want off and I'm not too sure how to tell you. So I'm not going to. I'm just going to fade into the distance and hope you don't notice for a while. It makes me sad. I am sad. I'm just no good at explanations. If I wrote you a letter to try and help you understand, it might be something like this. But probably not. You have a lot of potential. I'm just not ready for it. You're not the only one not ready to settle down. I don't know if I ever will be. Even if I can make it appear like that's all I'm after. I'm good at making you feel like you're the only one on the planet. I sometimes wish it could be so easy. And sometimes I believe it is. The truth is, I fear nothing more than commitment. Because in the end, it's all bullshit anyway. The only things that are true fact are death and taxes. The rest of life's little surprises have too many variables for me to handle. I want to find the potential in myself. The potential that used to be there. So strong. Like a light shining out through the clouds. It's too much work for me. And I feel like being lazy. Sad. Lazy. Both. My heart will break a little, but in the end, this is best for the both of us. I'll miss the span of your back. I'll miss the the feel of your lips. I'll miss the warmth you provide. Don't be angry. You'll be fine.