A Dedication.

Mar 14, 2008 - 19:43 PM PST
I don't know why I keep coming back. I don't know why I tell myself I'm in love with you when I know I'm not. Sometimes I can even convince myself, because with you I'm safe from danger, from myself, but then I remember that it's all a lie. I'm drawn to you because you're just like me, but weaker, sadder, more empty. You sit there and put on your show, pretend that you're like anyone else, but you're so scared of life, you're crippled on the inside. After all this time, you don't know who you are.

You're afraid of living. But then again, so am I. I use you the same way I know you use others every day, as a comfort for your own inadequacies. I'm through with this game.

A Dedication.

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