Perhaps this is all we get.

Because this is who we are. We're not adrift, but wish we were. Maybe we're the dock, dreaming of being the ship. The ship that gets to leave, to adventure out into the great blue beyond of hysteria and heartbreak.

But we know we cannot. We have to stay. Because the vessels around us depend on us, and for the most part that is enough. It has to be. But we can hope for the occasional storm. That might bring new travelers, if only for a while.

I fall fast, and I fall hard. You wish for obsession, but I live with it. But over the years, and the rejections, I have learnt to compartmentalize. To set my broken heart aside, and get through the day. To spend my nights wondering if she wishes the sheets against her skin were my breath, as much as i do. But by day, I get the job done.

But in this life we're in, perhaps this is the best we can hope for? Even if everything went right, everything came up aces, it would still end in nothing but heartbreak. So perhaps, some loves burn slow and long. But some burn bright and fast. Leaving scorch marks on your soul. But they all burn out. Because this is who we are. There is no forever, there is no happy ending. Because, even if we got one, odds are, we'd grow tired of it and end up here all over again.

This is who we are. This is the life we choose. This is, perhaps, all we get.