Surprisingly, my least favourite time of the day is the morning. Well...it may be surprising if you believe I'm one of those 'morning people,' which I am not. I could say 'ask anyone who has seen me wake up', except for the fact no one has.
Oh, don't worry, I do sleep with them. As in have sex, as well as fall asleep, but I always leave before they wake up. Or am sometimes in the process of walking out the door, and they just don't notice.
Anyways- I hate mornings. It's not just the fact that my breath smells bad, my hair looks like shit, I feel gross, and I am devilishly cranky. Nor the fact that I haven't had some form of chocolate intake for a few hours.
I fear the fact that I have to face a new day.
Not just any day however, but a day without the indulgence of my drug. That alone, without the presence of the one thing that can make me happy, the only thing I truly care about. Well, I changed a fuck load because of it.
It wasn't however, just on the outside that I changed, choppy haircut and leather, it broke me on the inside. Because although I hate to admit it, I am weak.
I am weak for Matt. I'll give him whatever he wants, say what he wants to hear, I'll fucking kill for the guy- and have. Matt is the one I long for, yet the one who I refuse to indulge in.
It's not like he loves me back anyways. If he did...let's just say our relationship would be much different.
I pray to God that he keeps Matt safe, even if I must drive my soul down to the deepest depths of hell for it. Because I love the guy. Not that I would ever admit it. (Unless he does first)
I still don't know how I managed to leave. It is a wonder how I even managed to leave without dragging Matt along, stuffed into my suitcase.
Hey, I even surprise myself sometimes.