A/N: Mostly improved Jess drabble. Um. To everyone who reads my stuff, thank you so much. You couldn't possibly fathom how much your feedback and comments mean to me. I would probably stop doing this if it weren't for you guys. EDIT: I don't know why I didn't even notice that the first paragraph was repeated. I don't even know how that happened. Strange. Sort of embarassing. But, it's fixed now.

I was a crisis and you, you were an opportunity. An opportunity to finally, finally let myself feel. To finally let myself be open to the idea of not being alone. It had been default before. Being alone was the way I was. I was an island, water- no, ice- ice surrounding me and you were stepping softly, lightly on the surface, watching for cracks and careful not to slip. But, you did. You fell. The ice broke and you were drowning in the freezing water. When your lips turned blue, I did nothing but kiss you. You were frozen. I had done this to you, hardened you while I was finally softening, melting. We switched places. You were me. I was you. Love was something I felt and something you feared.

I was a crisis and you weren't looking to save me. You were looking to be saved. Saved from what? The boredom? The monotony of your life? The steady in and out of breathing? You wanted to be erratic, unfocused, enthralling. And you were. You were a giant blur in my mind. You were everywhere and nowhere. You were completely intriguing in the way that only someone completely normal could be. I was broken, scarred, torn apart. You weren't a bandage. You were a fucking ambulance that was out of gas and couldn't take me anywhere. But, your sirens came on, alerting everyone that this was it. This was my chance to be fixed, healed, everything I wasn't supposed to be. If we could just move forward, I would be whole. I remained a half.

I was a train, waiting at the station. Waiting to move, go off someplace far away. I was a train with no passengers, a ghost train. Empty, but speeding along. I was going elsewhere. I was simply in limbo here with you. You knew it, too. You were standing on the platform, ready for a tearful goodbye. I was a nomad, only I wasn't following food. I was following answers. Answers to questions that had been posed so long ago. Answers that would turn out vague and not nearly enough to satiate my confusion. I was following the pieces of my life that had long since fallen apart, scattered on the floor of my mind. I was following what I thought would be the solution. I was left unsolved and just as puzzled.

I was entropy. I was your inevitable destruction. Your unavoidable chaos. I was your demise. I would be the end of you. Maybe it wouldn't be immediate, maybe it would take some time. But, somehow, at some point, I would be the reason for your downfall. I would be the reason behind everything that went wrong. It was what I did. I ruined. I was a tornado, a hurricane. And I touched down on your coast. My winds tore down all the barriers you had put up against me. My rain flooded your eyes. I was disaster, plain and simple. I was devastation personified.

What I wanted to be was good. Something simple. I wanted to be easy. I was tired of being jumbled and complicated. I wanted the things in my head to be sorted and filed. I wanted you to be the one to do it. I wanted to tell you things. I want to finally unburden myself from the things I'd been keeping inside. My mouth turned dry and my jaw locked itself shut. And so things went unsorted and you went unaware of the reasons for my actions.

I wanted to love you. Forever, maybe. I was only seventeen then and hardly old enough to make that sort of decision. I felt older, though. Much older. I felt like I'd already lived a life and a half. This was the half. The life there in that town with you. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that it was the life I should have been living the entire time. I found myself calm in that life. I wasn't fighting anyone besides myself then.

Even in my dreams, I destroyed you. In one, you are wax. I hold a candle to you and watch your essence drip slowly to the ground until you are nothing but a pool. In another, you are underwater. I watch you as you slowly give up the fight and sink to the ocean floor. In another, you are a reflection of myself in the mirror. I can't stand the sight of you becoming like me. When the pieces of shattered glass cut into my knuckles, I don't feel a thing. I am nothing if not completely numb to whatever is supposed to affect me.

I was the moon, only shining at night and only occasionally full. You said that I always seemed to be waning, never waxing. I was weak, then. I probably still am.

I am a caricature of myself. I laugh at the mirror, because it's pathetic. I am pathetic. I am desperate. I am lonely, but not alone. I have become everything I was staying away from. I am everything I hardened myself to when I was younger. I no longer only take care of myself. I no longer care about no one. I can no longer just push people away without a thought. I am still angry, but this is directed towards only me. I am no longer an island. More of a peninsula. I am hanging off in the distance, slightly detached from where I came from, from home. From you.

You. You are everything, everywhere, everyday, everyone. And I don't mean to sound like a clichéd love song. This is fact, that you are following me. That your ghost is in my bedroom at night, cold hands touching my face. That your eyes seem to burn in the back of my mind. That your lips are on every single girl I meet. That your voice is always on the other end of the phone. That the town you were born in is more like home to me than this city. That you are some inborn part of me now.

In the end, I am still a crisis and you are still a missed opportunity, a rescuer that quit rescuing when it came to me. In the end, we will always be the same.