What's more painful- a bad memory or a good one?
A  bad memory will pull me up and station me at home, sweet, home, with a reminder that I've made it through another breakfast and lunch and dinner and desert and small talk and everything in between.
When I think of you, baby, and really chew up the lies and cheats and the promises that no one even had the thought of keeping, for long enough, I know that I'll be able to celebrate an ending.
I've got hope that I can lose all hope and I know that not every good memory in the world will be able to crash my party when I reach the finish line.
When I think of the bad times, I want to be wherever I am and have to be anywhere but where they are, anywhere but we are, anywhere but you are.
So I'm living now, and I'm able to think, "that's the past."
And I swallow down another day!

Good memories? They'll tie me up and sling me back to Home, bitter, bitter home, only I've come back as an empty shell and with a reassuring whisper in the wind of "hey, you didn't deserve it anyway."
The longing alone is enough to make me beg to be anywhere but here, to want to be enveloped by the bad times so that I can feel something that reminds me I'm human and worthy of any experiences at all.
I can't find it in myself or in anyone else to accept that something is over and the thought of any kind of... celebration!? It makes me physically sick! How could I possibly even think about giving up on a lost cause. 
When I think of the good times, I want to be anywhere but where I am and have to be wherever they are, wherever we are, I'm begging you to take me back to where you are.
But
I think, "that's the past."
And I swallow down another day.

Ashes to ashes, we all fall apart but it's easier when you haven't got an ounce of hope in your liver that will make your body Beg and plead for another drag until you're nothing but a puff of smoke and then you're gone, or you should be. Or you think you should be but what's the difference? You're worse than gone already.
So hold on to the bad times because the worst is yet to come and it's taking on the form of category 27 hurricane and the good times are only going to try to take away your ground and pull you out from the safe zone. hold onto what you know. Pain and prayer and pills and the present.

So....tell me, then, what exactly have you done to me, what level of expired black magic have you worked on me that has made me want to feel such unbearable pain?
That has me looking forward to waking up and being in my room and in my life and wondering what I have done in other lives to deserve to be here?
That has me picturing the good memories before they've even happened, before I am even forced to, with open arms and eager eyes?
Tell me, please, why am I looking forward to the possibility of you giving me something to remember?