Moral of Little Red Riding Hood: Children, especially attractive, well bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say "wolf," but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.

- Stories or Fairy Tales from Past Times: Tales of Mother Goose

I have to watch out for gentle wolves. Maybe he isn't playing games but as lovely as he is, he has too great a hold on me. What's scary is that even though he might have pure intentions, he can still swallow me whole and chew me to pieces because I've left my heart open for him to do so.

I think I might be addicted to hurting the people who make me smile. They make it so easy for me too. It's almost too simple to take the things I know about them to use against them. It's so sick but somehow it makes me feel better. It's selfish to want to bring down someone when you're so unhappy yourself but that's pretty much what I do. Manipulative, selfish bitch. I can feel you slipping from me so I push even harder.

Just let me see how long you can hold on. Do you still want to? 

I'll tell you how I love to hurt. It's fucked up right? No, you say, I can handle it. My heart calms but only for a while. I'll stay as long as I can, you tell me. Your reassurance barely lasts. Before soon, I'll have turned around and gone right back to square one. I'm still haunted my the negative possibilities, plagued by them like an illness. Your words, your hands wiping away tears would have been for nothing. I never change and you're stuck in this cycle until we finally break.

I think all my problems stem from one simple simple thing.
But I'd rather not share here.
How could I have not seen it sooner?

I'm going to forgive myself for past mistakes. I'm going to let myself move on with a smile on my face and not punish myself for things that were beyond my control. If it's my fault, I'll accept it and set myself free. Holding on to hate will poison me, slowly and surely.

I've been wondering about this for a while. Did fate have it sorted that we would meet like this? Did she see that we'd end up this way since the beginning? Perhaps we came together only because we were meant to fall apart soon. I won't forget anything you've done for me. You're always there and I need you. Did you ever question whether we were feeding each other the wrong things? It's always fresh on my mind.

"I am what he needs?
 Psychotic and insecure.
 No one needs that.
 He doesn't either,
 even if he wants it. 
Maybe I should leave now."

I need a break. A break would be nice.