looking back now
i only wish i had been kinder
did i ever know love, did i ever know love?
and could i have been blinder?
— — —
believe the best about others and believe they believe the best about you.
why is that so hard? a glance or a matter of phrasing can kill me sometimes if i think someone is misinterpreting situations based on an assumption i know (or at least believe) to be untrue.
if i really know whether it’s true or not, why do i care what they think?
