C’mon, use me! by Your Resume, Codependent
 Well hey there, stranger. Haven't seen you around here in a while. So you're finally going to pay some attention to lil' ol' me, huh? What have you been up to? I can't wait to hear about everything. Oh … another fast-food job, slightly above minimum wage. Well, maybe this time you can break into management. Oh, you've already quit. After three whole weeks. I suppose you aren't going to be able to use this boss as a reference either, are you?
Look, I don't know why you're ruining your potential — our potential — by acting this way. I could be so good for you, if you'd only put more effort into our relationship. All I want to do is tell everyone how wonderful you are, but you're really not giving me much reason to be proud of you. I mean, remember when you moved to a different address and didn't even let me in on it for six months? I felt completely abandoned. If you don't update me on those little basic things, how am I ever supposed to make a future for you?
Hey! Don't walk away from me again. Sometimes I think you hate to even look at me. Why is that? Remember when we first met? I don't understand what happened; you used to lavish me with so much attention. We'd spend hours talking about you being the treasurer of your high school tennis club and a student council representative. Hell, I was the first one you told when you made drum major! You rushed right home to tell me. We were both so happy that day, remember? Back then, I felt like we could really depend on each other. You were my reason for existing, and I lived only to sing your praises. But that's all changed now, I guess.
You hardly ever want to see me anymore, and when you do tell me something, it's only to bitch about bad stuff. Your GPA's falling, you got another crappy job and that internship didn't give you any marketable skills. You're doing this to yourself, you know. It's not my fault. And even after all this bullshit, I still want to help you. I try to suggest that you volunteer at a soup kitchen, join some clubs — something. I think that would help you. If you and I had a better relationship, you could impress employers with a variety of skills and experience that would make you an obvious asset to any firm or corporation. But no. You don't want to listen to me anymore.
Okay, fine. Walk out on me again! You know every time you do that, you drive another bullet through my heart. But you'll be back. You can't stay away forever. I'm not giving up on you, yet. I know you'll make something out of yourself one of these days, and I'll be here. Just remember one thing, baby: You need me as much as I need you. |
