All this time, I believed it was you – the god's favourite.

He was on your side, always. You got beauty. You got brains. The world adored you. Just like the god did.

Looking back now, I wonder if I missed something. You were the god's favourite, but I was of you.

Perhaps I was too dumb. Or naive. Or depressed. Or blind. To see that it was me all along – wasting my time on debating who was right and who was wrong.

I used to blame you for everything. I still do – for choosing me. Even when I was done with the whole ordeal of us – you weren't. You chose me your home, when I thought you'd be just another guest.

You were the god's favourite, but I was of you.

I envied you with every fiber of my being. You had it all – all I ever wanted to have – all I ever wanted to be. I wanted to be you, instead of being yours. How delirious of me. 

I think I missed having god on my side. Missed being the god's favorite – like I once was.

You were like a crash course in love. A test in life that I failed miserably. I dogged every dart you sent to my heart, messed up the chorus you wanted us to harmonize. 

I was a handful. You were a trouble.

I felt invisible to you, but your eyes were on me. Searching. Hoping. Did you find anything worthy there? 

You never gave up on me, even when I was a mess. And I failed to see me in your eyes.

You were the god's favourite, but I was of you.

I lost myself – fighting with me – fighting with you. I lost you too. I've found myself again. But I'll never find you. I miss that part of us – we used to come back home. 

Now that we've become nothing more than a story of stardust , a castle built on sand – I'm slowly realising that I was the one who was wrong all along. 

I was god's favourite. 'Cause I was of you.

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