Self-Absorbed

You or me? I can't seem to tell. It's cruel, that when we were younger, life seems so inexplicably perfect. So flawless that even the most gratifying disaster wouldn't be enough to break down your little own fairytale story. And years later you end up having incessant epiphanies, finally realizing how screwed up your apparent fairytale was. Hm. See? Told you I wasn't done emoing.