Everytime you leave, you ring my heart out like a heavy, wet towel and as melofuckingdramatic as it sounds, I feel like I endure a scaled down version of death (and, believe me, there is such a thing). You make me feel desperate and stupid and selfish and miserable and angry and, at the same time, insatiably hungry for the tiniest taste of you. I hate what you do to me but I love you with a fervor that borders on idol worship. You're the full moon to my barking madness. I want to crawl inside you and melt, let my love run through your veins in its purest form and leave you with an incomparable high. And your addiction will keep you from ever leaving me behind again. This is my new plan.

Your momentarily devastated and most-certainly obsessed girlfriend,

Anna

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