I'm a genius

It all makes sense. Finally. Maybe those pills and that headache and the way my knees gave when I stood, shook the delusion out of my system; a slow breaking and mending of blood and bone.

I'm not that love of your life-lie that you can't forget or forgive yourself for leaving -or hurting, for that matter. You seem to be perfectly fine, forgetting and leaving and hurting, over and over and over again. I really am just that back up you run to everytime you need to confirm any bit of self-worth that arrogance of yours lets slip; a test of tears and stupidity. "The girl (you) run to whenever (you) need to feel special" "a lifesaver."

And what happens to me? What happens when I need to feel? What happens when I can't find the strength in me to stay afloat, when I can't seem to weave my way through Manila traffic?

Nothing.

And that's..okay..really, it is..everything is just..okay..