When you woke up you thought I was someone else. Maybe if my hair was a little blonder and a little straighter things would be different. Or maybe if I was better at cleaning and cooking like a real woman. But I’m so happy I’m me, am I that much less? Packing my stuff with a smile and some optimistic front was a lie. Something inside me died when I realized the truth. I watch on as everything you’ve ever said melts down the walls and forms a puddle of black ink in the corners. I hate when you leave and just come back like it’s no big deal. I miss you when you’re gone. I want you in my face and under my skin. And my sheets, they’re so cold and itchy without you. How is it that you soften my sheets? Can I grow wings and fly from…