A/N: Hey guys! It's almost 2011 and yeah, I know. I haven't updated ANY of my previous stories. I'm really sorry. I'm a commitment phobe and I'm sorry to say but they are on permanent hiatus until further notice. But anyways! I've started this new idea and one of my New Year's resolution is to finish this fic.

So I need your help in my New Year's resolution. If I haven't updated in 3 weeks, can someone please PM me? Please and Thank you!

BTW, Disclaimer for this entire fic: I do not own any of the characters, just the plot.

Anywho, read on!

Prologue

I know what I am. It is almost impossible to ignore when it's always the first thought that pops in my mind when I wake up every morning. The chill of the morning air, the emptiness of my bed no matter how many bodies occupy it, the silence of my apartment; everything reminds me of how I had allowed myself to get swallowed up with grief and self-pity, of how I had let my life spiral downhill.

I have fallen into a routine in my life. I know that there's nothing wrong with routine, that many people live through their lives in routine. But my routine is one unlike any other for it is one of self destruction. The carelessness I have towards life is what I have succumbed to. That feeling of being in control and yet out of control at the same time, of knowing that death could jump out at you at any moment is what I need. That feeling is the one thing that I can depend on. And I was content with the knowledge that all I needed to get on in life was that feeling.

At least that was what I thought.

Then, all of a sudden, out of the blue this girl-no, this woman just so happens to spot my life spiraling downhill from across the room and has self-appointed herself to help me. Just like that. And ever since then, I can't get rid of her. She's been popping in and out of my life as she pleases without the slightest regards to me own feelings. And I've found myself to be spending more time with her than any one single person since…well, for a very long time.

And the problem isn't that she's as stubborn as can be or that she doesn't put up with my shit. And it's not that she understands me better than I do at times or that she won't give up on a lost cause. The problem is, is that I'm starting to actually enjoy her company and sometimes, I even find myself craving it. I value her opinions and treasure any thoughts that she wants to share with me. I care about how her day went and what she has to say. And because she believes in me, I actually want to make her proud of me. I actually find myself taking steps to getting better.

But I also find myself in this predicament that brings up many new fears that my routine to self destruction was meant to prevent. Feelings that I've felt before, kept buried deep within, have come back with such an intensity that outshines and makes what I felt before dwindle to dust in comparison.

I know what I am. She knows what I am. She knew the moment she saw me across the room. Hell, anyone a mile away could point out and tell me what's wrong with me if I asked.

I'm damaged, damaged beyond repair. Well, that's in my opinion but I'm pretty sure everyone else thinks so too. Except for her.

I can tell it is working. I can feel her helping me is working and this scares me. This progression makes those new fears of mine more dominant.

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that when she realizes that her mission is complete that she'll leave me.

And I'm afraid that I can't love her enough to make her stay, don't know how to love her like she deserves.

I'm afraid that she'll leave before I even get the chance to.

So what do ya'll think? Good? Bad?

Please let me know with a lovely review to start off this new year right. (: