Love is a scar.

Permanent.
Crippling.
ugly.

Almost like a truth that everyone likes to hear, or pretends they want to know, holding a part of it will calm down your ego, reassuring your exhausted soul that you're not left behind.
Now you have whatever everyone has in their fists, you ask yourself, are you happy now?

I always over fabricated my connection with everything, and that depresses me a hell lot more than eating my dinner alone or going to Tesco by myself or waking up at 5am.
Because those are choices, you expect it, or even enjoy it a little. It's the other people that I worry about, it's always the other people that make you question yourself over almost everything.

Oh you stupid boy. You thought you want the same as everyone else.
Think again.