"She's in love, and the world gets blurry
She makes mistakes, and she's in no hurry to grow up
'Cause grownups, they don't understand her
Well it's a big, big world out there, but she's not scared...
She finds hope in the strangest places
She reads her books, and she knows the faces
Of everyone that ever said she's alone
She knows every word to the saddest songs
And she sings along, though her friends all tell her
That she can't sing...
She's eighteen, much too young
To know what a kiss like that would mean
But her lips, they were no stranger to the touch
And she likes it way too much."
--Mayday Parade, So Far Away

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

I'll Be Your Defender, and Your Victim, Too.

You're a ruiner.

You swoop in, take what remains, and destroy it.

I've spent my whole life fighting ruiners. Fighting destruction, fighting to maintain my very being. It's an uphill battle, you know?

And you were the worst. The very worst ruiner I'd ever encountered. Because you didn't even try to ruin anything, and the damage in your wake was beyond the realm of average ruin. You were the best, without any effort--just like always. Perfection without blinking, right?

I have endured the wreckage. I have endured the pain you've caused. I've dealt with the ruin, the blinding effects of a top-notch ruiner.

But I guess... Well, I guess the worst part is that you aren't a ruiner. You never were. Not even a little bit.

And I just can't figure out how a perfectly good person could be ruined like you were.
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