and you go home alone

The string of 21sts have begun. An avalanche year. This is supposed to be the year I get my shit together but clearly I am still in the same shit as my 20th birthday. Now that my dear, was shit. Despite all the time spent together, I'm beginning to wonder if there's much to salvage anymore. Your ridiculously jealous nature is just, so, fucking, ironic. I have no words for you. But actually if I think about it, it makes sense if you take the fateful night into consideration. In fact, I should expect such unbecoming behavior from someone of your.. shall we say, social stature? LOL joking, no we shan't say. Bullshit. That's all this is.. just all bullshit. How can one believe in something real if they don't understand what something real means. If they've never experienced how overwhelming love is, how it will stop at nothing until it completely usurps ones life, how insatiable hunger feels and more importantly, how empty it leaves you when it's over? I wonder. In fact, I'm almost embarrassed just thinking about this. On one hand, I am sick of all the crap that comes with being in love. On the other hand, I'd be hard pressed to say I don't believe in that crap. Under all the glitz and the pretense of my so called glamorous life, I'm still the girl that wishes for a warm body to return home to and crawl into bed with. How did I end up here? "I can't remember anything without you"

I only keep myself this sick in the head

cos I know how the words get you