Better Off

There are so many things I would like to say
So many things I would like to do
I question if you would ever feel the same
The real question I ask is this,
Where did we go wrong?

You could give me all the answers,
But in the end, there’s always something.
Either I would do this wrong or that.
No one is perfect, why can’t you accept that.
In the end, I’m better off.