I lay on the bed, bringing my knees to my chest and swallowing my own sadness. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the hot, wet, tears rolling down my face. Why is it that I am never good enough? What did I do to make my life so miserable? Contemplating these questions, there was a sudden knock on the door. Perfect timing... Just as I suspected the door opened to reveal a rather concerned looking John Lennon. "You're crying," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing on Earth. Moving to sit next to me, he placed a warm hand on my leg. I wasn't sure if he knew what happened, but as my gaze led to his eyes, I figured he knew. "He's a fucking idiot, you know." Of course, I knew but I figured it would be different this time; that I would win and get the guy, but yet again life painfully reminded me that I would never win in this sort of competition. John swung his legs up onto the bed, pulling my fragile form into his chest. My head was near his heart and I could hear its constant beating. John was like his heart beat for me in many ways, constantly there and never changing. Maybe life won this round, but I won John. I would always have him no matter what. Inhaling the scent of cinnamon and tobacco, John's scent, I could feel myself drifting off to a place where everything would get better…my dreams. Knowing that John was right there with me made all the difference.