“A man who lies to others is a liar, but a man who lies to himself is a fool.”

So call me a fool. Call me vulnerable, fragile, tainted, shattered, jaded, cynical. I would rather lie to myself than let you in, because I am not known for my bravery, and I never will be. Call me a coward. Call me proud, selfish, bitter, angry, sad, damaged. I would rather take the easy way out, because there is no way I will tear down walls I’ve built for years just for you. I am not that strong. Call me weak. Call me blind, deaf, senseless, foolish, ignorant, insane. I would rather be alone, because it is safe and secure and familiar, and because the sadness of it has become an integral part of me—I wouldn't know how to live without it. Call me pathetic. Call me defeated, lonely, haughty, rejected, triumphant, defeated, defeated, defeated.

I want to forget the sound of your voice. I want to forget your hands, your fingertips. I want to forget your face, your smile, your laughter.

I want to forget the color of your eyes.