-...-

Hmmm. It's always different. In ways, I wish it'd all just go away, and everything would go back to normal. But, then again, this is normal.

Or is it?

I feel as if this is just someone else's life that I've borrowed for a while. It's not mine to keep. It's not mine to have and to hold. Like the baby. She was mine, I gave her to someone else, then I got her back. This life was mine, now I've traded it. I'm waiting for it to all go bad once again. I know it will. It always does. Always.

I don't know what to do :/
Every inch of me is exposed.
I want to hide again.
But, I think that I've never stopped hiding.
"Just ask the right questions, and I'll tell you all. Please, just ask me, that's all I ask of you."