I want it all. The girls and the girl. The girlfriend coupled with my need for attention. The need to be accepted by others, while losing what’s in front of me. The need to look back and fix what I messed up. I’m insecure. I’m selfish and I’m a prime example of what not to be. Relationships aren’t my speciality. I don’t enjoy them like you’d see on movies. But I do imagine them like they are movies. I hide my emotions behind a script. I show lack of empathy when I’m truly hurting inside. I manipulate my way from point A to point B just to see smiles on faces never facing the issues. I sleep anxiously waiting for my fears to come true. Plotting every move as if to rush the process. Just to prove a point. Ha, I knew this was going to happen! You can’t hurt me I’m un-hurt-able. All my wrongs don’t make me right, while I’m left handed, my sense isn’t common. My view of the world is backwards. Hate what loves you and love what hates you. I use people and collect things. I sit in therapy like its confession hour. I understand my need to express myself, but I always understand the process in which the therapist consoles my ego. It’s not therapy I seek it’s love I want. I’d like to let my fears go and truly love. Hold you close and say I love you. Express my emotions in a healthy way. Let every lady know I’m not some low self esteem guy looking for attention. I’d like your attention. I’d need your attention. I still do. While I’ve let go through my actions. The nightmares won’t let me. The anxiety still gets my heart to beat faster… I hide behind my work, I let the alcohol dictate the night… I sit in therapy and express my feelings… But my ego needs to be consoled… We’re not fixing the problem we’re beating around a bush every Tuesday for one hour. So I ask how can I express myself truly. I go back to my love. My writing. Writing is a self paced processed… It’s healing… It’s what I do best.