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i have no problem moving on from someone. the history, the stories or the moments we were on top of the world. i can convince myself without even trying that they weren't that special that i've changed and i've grown up and they haven't. but the moment they move on from me, i freak out. i feel betrayed, alone and confused. how could they move on from ME?!. how could they do that to me, leave me here. i'm relying on them to remember the history: to want history to repeat it's self. And when they don't, that leaves me left to remember. left to feel. left to contemplate every last choice. i don't know where this mentality came from. where this need to always be someone's, anyone's number one came from. how i became so dependent on the attention of knowing they want me, but i'll never let them have me,completely, anyways. i fiend control. and
this control is better than any good hair day could ever be.