If there's a worthy lesson to be learned in this life, it's this: don't ever trust anyone. Don't ever open your soul wide enough for anyone to see—or worse yet, to permeate through—because rest assured, regret will rain down on you faster than lightning hits copper. It's only a matter of time before you're let down; the sand in the hourglass runs out faster than you'd think, and when it does – you'll miss the person you thought you knew. After all, that's the reason you granted your trust in the first place. And that, right there, will be the source of your greatest torments—you were stupid enough, so completely shrouded in naiveté, to let yourself be vulnerable. You've broken the levee. And every day, more and more water impend the surface.

Nothing comes without a few strings attached; human relations are all about costs and benefits. You either stand to gain, or you stand to lose. Pick your poison. When someone can read you from A to Z, or they think they can, it's attached with a certain degree of power. Control. And that, that is the point when you're absolutely and utterly screwed. Your life, as you've known it, is over. Kaput. No more. From that moment on, you're enslaved. You're a hollow, decayed piece of wood, and the termites are indulging. You're hanging from slack threads, dancing to your master's entertainment. The tune is beating out, and you're being marched off a cliff.

A Dependent variable.

You lose your identity. Your core is rotten, and you become a pathetic, empty shell with zero content— abandoned by your own soul. The hollowness becomes your home, your compass; your addiction. Nothing tastes better than self-destruction, after all. It's the easiest appetizer to digest. You feed off of it, because it's the only companion that never lets you down. It never runs out.

It gets worse with every passing day. You're infected with necrotizing fasciitis, only instead of flesh it eats away at your essence.

Time cures everything? Bullshit. It can't cure the terminal.

A/N: Yeah, I have no idea what I was thinking when writing this, either.