For the people who put me so high up on their ******* pedestals that they thought I was some sort of angel: I'm not. You all can call me perfect and beautiful and dreamy and whatever else you want to spit out. But eventually, a time will come when I peel back my shell and make you see what I am inside. How cruel, how senseless, and how vile I truly am. And you'll be disappointed. You'll see the bitter, broken thing where all your expectations used to be and you'll be *******. How dare I not meet up? How dare I *not ******* care?