Today I was accused of having a lighter in school.

More accurately, yesterday. I was just in class minding my own damn businness when some kid with a bald spot on his entire head decided to point me out as having a lighter. Among others, yes, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. Did I really seem like I would carry something like that around? And then when I asked why he thought I'd have one, he just told me to shut up. As if I was the one who said something wrong.

But that wasn't what rubbed me the wrong way.

It was the fact that I wasn't entirely offended when he suggested it. I mean, I can't blame him. I've had beer more than once in an entire week and I'm already thinking of spiking my frinks. Have I really passed my prime by now? Is my time here really running by so quickly?

It's morphed from being curious about the taste to actual desire. Need even.

And next thing you know, the second I'm left alone in my college dorm room, I'm smoking an e-cig while I do homework for a degree I doubt I even want. What do I want anymore? I hardly even remember what wanting feels like other than him.

He is a masterpiece sculpted by the gods, and a divine nectar is his lips.

And yet, I want another taste. I want to continue tasting, I can't stop even though I know I don't deserve even a single drop. Do I truly deserve him? I've doubted it before and I doubt it now. Which is why I sit here at 3 in the morning, up out of absolute fear of sleep, typing this for the internet to feast on. The saddest part is, it feels relieving, freeing. It's as if there's smoke emitting from my back from where demons used to creep in and take over my entire existence...

And now it's no longer sufficient.

How long has it been since it has been sufficient...? I've been feeling like this over the course of a year and five months, and in that time I've gone through two boyfriends, one of which I currently feel nothing towards, out of having moved on. Of course, it wasn't fair to my current boyfriend that I was grieving my previous relationship, but it was because of who I'm letting go why I grieved it.

I was letting go of an inner child dying for an escape, to get even a taste of genuine love. And she finally did...and she smiled and she danced and she screamed to the heavens of how good it tasted...

I'm happy for her, but I'm scared of letting her go...

She'd been with me since the beginning - even I can't remember that was. But she was with me. She stood by my side and she let them all in. Whoever stayed stayed and who didn't think it was right for them, got lost. And then there were a few she didn't think was worthy. They got the deepest darkest secrets, but they never got her heart. Were they truly deserving?

Anyway, this is getting too long. I guess this could be my little diary from now on, yeah? How long will this last for? As long as my attempt at a story? Or as long as I think it should.