If Love is a drug, how can i buy it?

Our last message was 2 months ago, and so i was pleasantly surprised to see your name pop up on my phone. And not different from the other times you talked to me, it's for a favour. So you say you're poor because you've been spending money on your vices. I restrain myself from commenting on your stupid vices. She told me you didn't like it. She told me that i should praise your sins to get into your good books. But i like your existence too much to condone what you do.

And then i suggested turning to music or some other fun stuff. Or pause for a day. You said school's been increasingly stressful. It's harder to stop.

I thought about what i do to curb stress. What was respite when i feel overwhelmed. And i thought long but figured i myself am no good in dealing with stress. Our conversation headed no where, i should stop the nasty habit of being an overexcited blabbering girl in my replies. That's so unclassy.

I guess i found my answer when you stopped replying. I seek some relief in you. Maybe more specifically, you being. You are to me the cigarettes you smoke, the highs you get, the numbness you feel. And it's terrible as i have learnt again and again to base your emotions on things beyond your control. Money can buy you a moment of escape, money cant buy me the attention i crave from you. Unless i wave a hundred dollar bill in your face maybe you would second glance me but then again that's not the attention i want.

I dont really know the purpose of this post. You're imperfectly perfect.