I'm swimming in my words. I can't stop bleeding on to paper. Sobriety is bringing out all the worst memories of me and everything that is or was me. But there's still one thing I won't touch. Him. Why was I so enthralled, so infatuated? Why am I still a wreck to this day for that boy who has been nothing but insane? How many times has he been able to wrap his hands around my veins and with a tug and hardly a pull yanked my heart to him. Why does he captivate me, why does he own me? There is nothing there – he is so behind me in self-awareness and intelligence but yet and still I want him. I fucking need him. He's a drug to me. He was everything I wanted and needed and begged for – but he was none of that. He is cocaine – he is romantic in my thoughts but in reality he can't get me high for shit. And there we go. That's the bottom line. God, I'm so fucking pathetic.