Why

Why does this cloud never seem to leave, why does it always seem to be raining? Why is it that as soon as the sun seems about to peek over, something happens to make it disappear again? Why does the world always seem to be dark? Why can’t I find some light somewhere? Why is it the things I do only seem to make it darker, and harder to move on? Why do I have to think the way I do? Why can’t I seem to do the things I need to do for me, instead of for you? Why can’t I be loved like I love? Why is it when my phone rings I pray to god it’s you? Why can’t I get passed you, the way you seemed to have gotten passed me? Why is it you’re the only place that feels right? Why do I hate and love you so much, that it hurts? Why do these memories haunt me so badly, that I want to take a drill to my temple to get rid of them? Bang, bang, bullet to the brain, everything goes away. But would that really make it any better? Or would I be forced to live out eternity feeling this way? Would I haunt this plane of existence mourning? Would it even bother you? How could I do that to you, would it be fair? Why do I laughingly cry in the face of this misery? Why does my brain say one thing and my heart says another? Why do I not know which one to follow? Why do the rambling chaotic thoughts of a genius not matter to any but himself? Why am I that genius, and why do I have a headache?