Too perfect

It was perfect, too perfect.
I guess I wouldn't do.
You said you liked the idea, it was good for you.
Why couldn't you keep the perfect?

It seemed like magic, pure magic.
Why didn't I see the tragedy?
It worked out well, too good to actually be.
I guess you didn't like the magic.

We worked well, I guess too well.
Were you afraid to get close?
Thought I would run during your lows?
Didn't you think it went well?

I thought we were good,
I thought you liked the idea.
Maybe if we would have talked, it could be better.

I'm tired of it all,
Tired of the evasiveness,
Tired of the lies,
Tired of the empty words and broken thoughts,
But most of all I'm tired of not talking to you.

Why can't I let it go like you seem to have done so easily?