She Goes Down on the Pedestal
I hate it how you read me like a book and how you're right alot of the time.
I hate it how you point out my personality flaws to my face. Funny how it's different when some other friend does it, it doesn't hurt that bad.
And when you do it, well, let's just say you've just singlehandedly made me give up whatever hope I've had left.
It occurred to me that that's probably because I have so much and respect in you than I realise.
Fuckall. I need to think before I speak more.
I'm sorry. I need you to be frank. I need you to stop me from being dellusional and disillusioned. I need to know what you think. I may not like it, but good God, what you say [sometimes, heh] will keep me alive.
Bleargh.
I wish I was still 5 years old.