My anxiety is through the roof. I can't help but hurt on the inside. My heart goes out to you, and I hang on to every word that leaves your lips- a ploy that keeps me coming back for more. Even though our talks are few and far between I still wait for your response. The minutes seem to tick a little slower lately, and time seems to stand still. I can't help but hope that there's a reason for this madness. Maybe, just maybe you do this because you care for me; you just don't know how to express yourself. You're caught in a world where you need to salvage yourself before you can save a girl like me. In the end I might just be the one who needs saving after all, but you might not be the prince charming I expected of you. Maybe that's the problem with fairy tales. We hold guys to the conclusion that they will be our knights in shining armor, and they'll save us from well, ourselves. The moral of the story is that sometimes you have to be your own savior. You don't need the cute boy with the infectious smile to save you. You just need yourself and some time. We need to stop falling for the "happy ever after", and wake up to the reality of our world. He's not the one who will save you.
