ever since we met

I really thought we'd get to the end somehow, right? I mean, I really did. But I hate who I am with you now. I catch myself sometimes looking at you, and I'm just waiting for you to fuck up. It just seems easier to be you. And... I envy you. I envy your life and how you get to be. It just looks like a lot more fun. I know there's things that you worry about too, but they seem like small things, and I get to carry around all the big heavy shit, and you just let me do it. You just let me take that role because I'm good at it. Maybe I don't want to be good at it, you know? Maybe I never wanted that role. Maybe you never cared enough about me to stop and ask me if I wanted it.