i thought i could, i thought i could let you slip un-noticed. i thought we   could, i thought we could share something beautiful. was i just a role in your   twisted game? well, did i ever get you somewhere or did i ever help you?   truelove is fiction. now that i look back on it all it all seams so clear: i was   just a helping hand like all of the others. "help me through." you held my hand,   you held my hand like we were a couple. i thought i meant, i thought i meant   something more than a "psykologist". all the words flew back at me: "...and how   are you, how are you? you just keep asking questions." it makes me always   remember all...all of...all of those...those bloody letters. i will protect you,   from yourself.