I don't know if I'm imagining conflict because I want to push you away,

keep my secrets guarded and my flaws to myself, or if it's really there.

If the cracks and distance between us are real, if we're falling, and falling fast.

For so long I've entertained the notion that I love you, that you're my hero,

the Prince Charming you only find in fairytales, capable of saving me from everything,

even myself. For five months now, maybe more, I've wanted to believe that no matter

no matter what happened, we'd last. You brought so much happiness into my life,

taught me so much, not just about chemistry and corruption, but about who I am,

and that I'm stronger than I've always thought, smarter that I realise, and I don't want

to let the one person who can make me see that go. I'm clinging to you, to what this is,

to all the memories that we have, despite how miserable it makes me feel right now.

Maybe I'm not that interesting, maybe I'm not who you imagined your first girlfriend to be;

if I'm not your dream girl, there's not a lot that I can do to change that, but I'm hoping that

spending time with me has given you something, something other than a headache, of course,

and something other than a hard-on. I'm not perfect; I've made that clear from day one, but

I think I've tricked myself into thinking that you are, that's why it hurts so much when we

fall and it becomes painfully obvious that you're not the boy I hoped you were, because

I have this illusion of you, I've put you on a pedestal, and in that regard, it's my fault.

But I can't claim responsibility for this ideal in its entirety – I'm the catalyst for my fall

from grace, yet at the same time, the time when I need you most, you're running from me,

the days I need a hug you'd rather watch the West Wing. There's nothing wrong with that,
I can deal with being down lower on the priority list, but only sometimes – I tolerate the

excessive gaming and being the fourth or fifth choice because I know that I must get a little

boring at times, and that if it makes you happy, it makes me happy, because I get to see

that gorgeous smile of yours. But right now, I'm spiralling out of control and I need your

help. I need you to stop me from hurting myself, and I know it's a lot to ask, yet it's not really.

A phone call, a conversation, something that's natural and not at all forced. Because I need to

escape it all, my own reality, my life, and get lost in something else, something that'll numb

the emotions running through my mind, and baby, you're my favourite mood-altering drug.