I make a lot of wishes.
I know, its bad, because im always let down.
but i guess that its just the idealist inside waging war against the realist outside.
last night I made a wish
I wished that I could make you happy.
now, being a wish expert, I can tell you that this is the worst kind of wish
the kind that seems so practical in print but so impossible in practice.
the kind that makes you wish you had never wished in the first place.
this is the kind that heartbreak is made of.
i think something went wrong when we ended things
because i still feel like theres a part of you stuck to me
when you hurt i hurt
and i dont like to hurt.
hell, being that selfish makes me hurt.
it cant go on like this anymore,
i cant feel you in pain like this ever again.
i have to make you better,
it is my duty.
these are the last words of andrews ego, the cripple
and the first breath of andrews conscience, the martyr
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