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I had one of those dreams last night where I was falling. Usually, I wake up with a spasm when I hit the ground, but this time, someone caught me.

Someone in particular caught me.

And I woke up angry.

Why does someone always have to catch me?

It's not right that I want him to come back and fix whatever the hell happened.

It's not right that the minute my heart broke, I ran back to old habits, expecting him to somehow mend my heart.

It's not right that when I drunk-cried (and trust me, you haven't hit an all-time low until you've drunk-cried), I curled up in someone's lap until I felt better.

It's not right that I let someone send me cute texts and call me beautiful just because it makes me feel good.

I'm not trying to give up a fight anymore. I'm waiting for someone to save me.

And that's not right, because I need to learn how to start saving myself.

And if I can't do it (and I'm pretty sure that anything that entails me doing something by myself is a sure-fire way to fail), the only one I'm going to let do it is Him.