He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, he ran his fingers through his knotted hair and let out a sigh, "Can I come in?"
Can he come in? Can I let him come in? Let him come back to fuck with my head and fuck with my heart? To allow him to push me to the side and make me feel so special, only for him to drop me when he wanted to. But we makes me so happy...no, no he doesn't; that isn't love. Its being powerless, so vulnerable, having no control of yourself since he controls you. Don't let him control you, don't let him make you feel like you're powerless. Don't give him all of your happiness, don't let him become your happiness. Your happiness should depend on you. We had so many good times, but compared to the bad? The bad weighs down the good. And it sucks. You miss him, you miss him so fucking much, but you can't... don't, don't, don't let him in. Its for the better, for your own good.
"Yeah, come in." You whispered.
And the cycle replays itself...
