Spur of the Moment

  You are supposed to run to me, hold me, say you love me, tell me everything is okay, tell me you're here now, tell me you always will be. You're supposed to let me fall into your arms, tell me it's alright, let me cry on your shoulder, say you'll still be my Valentine, tell me you are sorry. You're supposed to be kind to me under any and all circumstances. You're supposed to be the one person that doesn't look at me like I'm crazy.

Or not.

I can't fall.

Or I'll be back at square one.

Square one is a vile, nasty place.

I'm afraid.

“Sometimes in our confusion, we see not the world as it is,

 but the world though eyes blurred by the mind.”