But you know whats funny? Its that he doesn't even know any of this. He has no clue what he has done to me or what he was doing while he was doing it. And I'm left here to figure out what to do. To pick up my own pieces that I'm failing to do because every time I feel like I've got myself together, I fall apart again. Whats even more ironic is how I was dying to feel something. Anything. And when I did, it wasn't even for me. None of what I experienced was for me. It was what everything turns out to be. Me and my ruthless imagination that gets me nowhere but back to nowhere.

-E