the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us

the problem is, you will always be a disappointment. you will never be able to live up to the image i've created of you in my head... not if you lived for another hundred years and tried for every single minute of them. i'm not saying that the image in my head - what you should be - is perfect. far from it. you have your flaws, small and great, just like anyone else. but they're beautifully worded, tragically hopeless flaws. the kind that you want a character to have because reading them is so much better than reading about constant perfection.

you dont grunt grammatically incorrect nonsense, you say things that should be engraved on pillars of buildings and tombstones in beautifully scripted letters. you are never slovenly, you are charmingly disheveled. you're not a coward, you just know when a battle is worth fighting and when the more courageous thing is to just let something go.

i'm in love with a fictional character that i've created. the fact that it was based off of you really has little to do with anything. because you can never be him, and i can never settle for you.

*Waste of Paint - Bright Eyes