That night he told me "you can't always get what you want."

I was broken. I was consternated.

He was clueless and had no utter idea;

No understanding whatsoever.

He didn't know that what he thought I wanted was absolutely everything that I needed.

I needed him.

I needed his presence and wordy embraces.

I needed him more than anything in this fucked up world. 

He was the love of my life...Saying this at the age of sixteen might have been one of the most unhinged phrases coming from my very own psychotic mouth.

I was young, naive, and in love. I didn't want to be...

Being naive and in love was stupidity at it's finest.

So that night,

I cried....

I cried. I wept.

I even mourned.

Mourned the death of the remains of my shattered heart.

Swollen red eyes, dry tears and the crazy out of control curls were in full action. 

I looked beautiful.

My private melancholy has always seemed to be the prepossessing side.