Something so Pitiful.

This is an excerpt from a journal I kept a few years ago:

What is it in you that draws me in? When I'm near you it feels like going home. You make me want to run away with you; to move to Spain, stay up all night and talk about our lives. There have been all too few people in my life that made me feel normal; that made me feel at peace with myself, my flaws, my insecrities, my struggle with "growing up". You helped me realize that in-fact there is something beautiful and reverent about imperfection.

I was always afraid of falling for you. I was afraid of you getting wounded when I self-destruct. I guess I knew that the blast radius would mame everyone around me. It always did. I think I learned this from mother.

Everyone I love would feel the impact. Not intentionally, of course, but when I would self destruct I did it huge. Like a ballet. Simply spell-binding. A display of utterly amazing self loathing and masochism. It's hard to look away from something so pitiful.