I can’t tell you how fucked up I am. I can’t tell you how I cope alone. I can’t tell you that I need your help. I can’t stand the thought of disappointing you. You know my addiction, but I can’t tell you that I relapse. I can’t let you see who I really am. I can’t reach out to you, but I can’t do this by myself. When I say I’m fine, please look into my eyes and see beyond my words. I’m not strong enough to tell you everything, but I promise I will not lie when you ask me how I cope with my darkness. You already know the answers, but I will not volunteer details of my destruction. Please love me enough to ask me my truth.