Dealing with a light heartbreak, my mind starts racing, different parts of myself fighting for attention. For control. I’m hurt. A woman I felt for incredibly deeply left me, and all I’m feeling is hurt. The Urge makes its presence known, saying, “You always end up hurt. You’re on the receiving end.” “Yeah, but…” “You get derailed. That fragile little heart of yours laid bare. I think you might enjoy this you sick fuck. Do you like being a sad little puppy?” My eyes sink. Maybe it’s right.