One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.

Yeah, I know getting high isn't so smart. Ask me if I care.

It's probably weird to think about an addiction like it's a sentient being, but that's how it feels. Like it's something living inside you. Something you can't get rid of because killing it means killing you.

In control. Out of control. Sometimes they're the same thing. The trick is knowing that, realizing it's okay to feel out of control once in a while, as long as you're sure you can regain the upper hand when you absolutely need to.

Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing.

One kiss, I was totally hooked.

Perfection I've lived with the pretense of perfection for seventeen years. Give my room a cursory inspection, you'd think I have OCD. But it's only habit and not obsession that keeps it all orderly. Of course, I don't want to give the impression that it's all up to me.