I kind of structured this a little oddly… I'm not sure how to define it, only to say it's not all that joyful. I do so enjoy writing about the despair of random characters! Oh I remember why I was typing my own comment now….I should state that I didn't write any of the song lyrics featured.

Ha Ha…love. So many different opinions, different interpretations of it's true meaning.

A fool's dream? Often confused as lust, passion, contentment?

Have I ever been in love? I don't know. I suppose it would depend on your own personal view of what love is. But there was one.

My one. My beautiful, darling one, with those pretty brown eyes flecked with grey.

We don't need to burden him with our woes.

They're gone in an instance when he smiles. When he tells me about the fascinating documentary he saw about ants or whatever crappy T.V knowledge he's picked up that day.

When he tries to play with my hair, but just ends up knotting it.

Complete bliss. Complete escape. But so much more.

Fascinating me. Captivating me. Keeping such a brave face but allowing me to see him weak. Caring for him all the more for it.

For loving me. Despite believing that I didn't love him. For making him believe this? The worst thing I ever did by my own judgement.

Spoiling perfect moments with screams of 'Adrienne!' and Sylvester Stallone kissing. What a fool!

Keeping perfect moments perfect.

Simple moments. Watching cartoons on the couch, holding hands. Kissing my hands. Let these moments last forever. Let me stay here forever. Let me never go home. Stay here forever. Perfect. Bliss. Always.

For loving me. For not needing to say a word.

Laughing at me, singing my 'crazy drunk songs'

'Oooh I'm surprised

that you've never been told before,

that you're lovely

and you're perfect,

and that somebody wants you-ooo!'

And the other.

How's it go?

You know.

Mushy love song?

Yeah, that's the one.

'Oh, on our first date

We went to Deeeeenys!

We saw my Grandmother

And she said she liked your spikey hair!

I was soooo shy

'Cos you are such a handsome guy

Bla bla bla ha ha ha!'

I laugh because I point at you as I sing it, and you laugh because you don't have a clue. And you love my drunken singing, sure you do. Ha ha ha.

But oh, now I should shut up. You're dead.

And now it's not fun anymore. Lessons have been learnt. But it's not right.

A year on, and still I cannot snap out of it. Cannot get back on track.

And the worst part is that I hate you.

You know it's sick.

It's sick how we as a species so desperately seek companionship.

Always looking for someone. But it's a completely corrupt instinct that makes little sense.

Companionship means reliance, dependence on others.

But others can only let you down, and it makes you weak to need them

Whereas solitude equips us so much more efficiently for survival.

Fend for ourselves and don't get hurt.

Makes more sense.

It's not worth the hurt in the end.

And you know the worst thing isn't the weakness.

It is this hurt after.

It's the fact that it's not worth it.

It's the fact that it won't get better.

It's hating someone you loved.

Someone who loved you.

Someone who couldn't help it.