If I ever push you away, I don’t really mean to. When I tell you I don’t want to talk about it, I do, I am just looking for the right words. Give me a minute, and if I can tell you, I will. I try to be a struggling mix of real and perfect at the same time. At the moment, I’m working on the ratio. When I get really quiet sometimes it is because I have to much to say. I have thought of too many things… My head is a complicated pile of thoughts, and fears, and cravings, and dreams, the past, and somehow the future. I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying.