I blow up, looking for some sort of response that shows that my tantrum wasn't born for nothing. I don't know why I allow the poison to rip off my skin and expose my vulnerabilities and insecurities. I am trying to give him an excuse to run for the hills. Maybe if I act insane enough, he won't need to look for a reason to escape. But, he stays. Because we are both ****** up and broken. I want to inhale his scent for the rest of our broken ******-up lives.