Exerpt from 'For Better or Worse' (Story that hasn't made the cut...yet)

It all seemed a touch too surreal, yet twisted with a scent of perfection that I prided myself for creating. I had wrapped myself in a blanket of predeterminations and expectations that, not only felt excessively warm, but also was never given the proper observation that it was unquestionably warranted. 
Who had made it? Was it myself, or the delusional self within me that holds up a wall of denial like a proud war hero that doesn't care to hear that the war's over?
Disappointment was the only surprise I had set myself up for, and of course, in the heat of love, that's neither expected or accounted for in the large scheme of things. A sense of unmatched belonging clouds my judgement like a fog I yearn to spit profanities at, yet I know it's futile and in the end will only leave me with another brimming glass of bewildering desperation. 
I had become a crash test dummy amidst my very own crash course. The irony of self-inflicted pain is boggling; for it's ever so misinterpreted until it's too late.
I wanted her to know it all, although understood that my words alone could never possibly suffice as my vessel of expression.
It seemed that I had created my own mental jail cell, and the key I wasn't giving to anyone.