I thought I knew you for a minute

I think we're all at our most sensible when we first wake up. We've had the whole night to dream and think and sort things out in our heads while our bodies rest, uninvolved. We don't have to think about thinking about anything. Our brains have time to digest all the days activities and sort through the complicated problems we can't handle while we're awake. And I think we're at our least sensible at night, I think we're at our deepest stage. You know when you stay up really late and you feel almost drunk. I think its called "punch drunk" maybe. I don't know. But we just say anything that comes to our mind. I can usually write my best at night because I'm not thinking about how dumb I might sound.
Anyway, it's almost eight in the morning and I just woke up with all these new thoughts and feelings and resolutions to my problems that I don't remember thinking last night. I woke up kind of suddenly and I felt almost free. I remembered conversations I had last night, some pointless but most were meaningful. And I realized that everything I was hearing was true. I mean, of course it's true, but I guess I just wasn't ready to accept it. But it really is. And I've been holding onto something that was never really there. I mean, sure you put in the time and effort and planning, you made the promises, but you never ran the race. And I've been running the race the whole time, by myself, and not with you. I made you up in my head. I really did. I made up this unrealistically perfect guy that understood me and truly, unselfishly cared. I convinced myself that you were this perfect guy because it was easier. It was easier to ignore problems and other people by escaping into this obsession with you. Yet it was never you, it was the you that I made up. The real you isn't even half that guy. The real you doesn't care at all and never did and I wish I could've seen it before.
But I fell for your poetic words and adoring looks, your "game", and I became exactly what I hate. I became one of those girls thats blindly in love with a game-playing, stupid, hormone driven boy who thinks he knows exactly how to handle her. And I guess it was good in a way, because I'll never fall for that again. Or at least I'll try because it's not worth it. When I looked at you, I thought I saw something. I thought I saw something more, something deep, something understanding, something perfect. But it was never really there. It was just a figment of my imagination. And I guess thats all we ever were. So the only thing I'm holding onto is myself, almost like my imaginary childhood friend. I'm holding on to you because you're comforting, you're routine. And it's hard to just let something like that go. But it will come eventually, just like I got rid of my imaginary friend, I'll get rid of you. One morning I'll wake up, and you won't be there.

"It's like the smell of burnt toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's on the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the tops of your hands. And in the morning, it's still there."