If I don't go out, I don't have to lie. I don't have to pretend.
So I stay inside as long as I can.
It's getting harder and harder to pretend.
I get so tired, all I wanna do is lay down and sleep, but I can't.
The happy version of me is taking vacations, so the gloomy version stepped out and it's not going well.
On top of it, the gloomy version wants what the happy version had, but it didn't know that that doesn't exist anymore. No touching, no caring, no closeness.
So the gloomy version gets gloomier, closes every door and demands to let happy version comeback only if it gets all the good things it's craving: love, attention, care.
So apparently, we're here for the long run.
