I wish I had the strength - or weakness - to tell myself you're going to save me. Capable of saving me. You're just another fucked up wreck with no hope of being saved yourself. If I could draw, I'd draw you a map of our demise, both as individuals and as a unit. If I could dance, I'd choreograph a number in whatever is the saddest dance that speaks the most of sorrow and parting to foreshadow it for you. I already know - getting caught off-guard is one of the worst parts. Maybe that's why I'm glad I already know. Just because someone will hang out with you and do self-destructive things does not mean they're your soulmate. Let's just call this a hard lesson learned.