I'm an expert faker.

When it all started –when I first met Dan, and as we grew closer- it seemed natural and appropriate that I would bear his burdens with him. He was going through a transitional time in his life that I remember myself. There had been no one there for me when I'd had to face the future; I would never wish that on anyone. And Dan had looked up to, even idolized me. I was flattered that for once, I was maybe making a positive impact on someone's life. And maybe things started to go wrong when the flattery led me in this deep.

Disclaimer: I love Dan to the ends of the earth and back. These past few years I've lived for his happiness –maybe only lived for his happiness. If it had been anyone else, I would call them a leech and cut them from my life. I bore the hurt with him: every tear, every frown, every ounce of any kind of pain was my burden as much as it was his.

Soon the angsting ended for him: he officially dropped out and was much happier with that weight lifted from his shoulders. He could breathe then, and boy did he breathe deep. He grew more successful in a shorter amount of time than I could ever dream of. He was a man rather than a trembling boy, and I couldn't be more proud of him. I love him more every day, but things were still bittersweet.

Dan's burden grew lighter, but the issues remained, never resolved. And to let him live more freely, I chained those troubles to my own wrists. I couldn't reach as far, and he soared beyond my reach. He always reached back down for me, try to pull me up with him because, well, he loved me, too. But I was still strapped to the ground.

Every morning was a struggle; I'd stare into the mirror until my reflection tore or blurred in tears. I swear I was growing thinner –being a guardian took a lot more out of a person than you might realize. Wetness burned like acid in my eyes, but I stitched a phony smile into my lips with horribly shaking fingers. I fixed up my hair –brittle from years of charcoal dye and heat of the iron- so it wouldn't look so disheveled from endless sleepless nights. Then I'd climb back into bed and carefully pull Dan to my chest, letting his soft breath heal my aching heart and hoping he couldn't feel me tense at the thought of yet another day as a sponge.

I didn't let him feel guilty for that, tried to make sure he didn't even know I was feeling that way so he had no choice but to keep living without burden. He tried to see through me, but I'd put up my walls, sew on that fake smile and make sure he knew that I loved him and was always so, so proud. And for a while that would keep him off my trail, with a few sweet kisses thrown in to be sure.

And that's the kind of thing you do when you're in love. This smile will remain stitched into my lips until the day I die.