How much longer will this keep going on,
or how much longer will I not understand it?
What we are is too complicated to even begin to comprehend.
How much longer will I go on pretending,
or how much longer will I have to pretend?
To face each other, after it’s all been done,
would that even be possible?
How much longer will I have these thoughts,
or how much longer will you have no idea?
To say that I don’t care anymore would make me nothing but a liar.