Some people never find love at all, count yourself blessed if it ever happens your way

you fly until you crash two days two nights no sleep, no food, come down off the monster YOU CRASH REAL HARD

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.

Smile. Nod. Say something witty before he finds out what an incredible geek you are.

She's incredible, not that she's perfect. But you once said imperfections create character.

I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.

Sad, that lives can be shattered, into so many pieces that they can never be put back together, the the relentless force of love. Irreparable.