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“you could be free. you could be your own person.”
be my own person - what does that mean? i am whoever you others want me to be. i live for them. it has always been this way... thinking back, you would say that it does not need to be this way anymore.
“a follower, only exchanging one master for another… how pathetic.”
you ask me what my dreams are, and i say you. you laugh, as though i am trying to be romantic. it is still the beginning, where my flaws are hidden by a haze of flowers that glow weakly against the impending darkness.
you are worried that i am using you as a crutch. you are the first to notice.
you will notice more of these things, these demons that eat at me little by little. you will see sides of me that i hate. perhaps you will end up hating me yourself. i am yours, you are mine, but we mean vastly different things.
you say you are bad for me, that you are not - that you cannot be - who i need. you say that you are sorry. i am sorry too, for the same reasons and more. i am sorry that you need to feel this way, to feel it is you who is defective. place the blame where it falls, say it as it is: i am bad for you.
once you are gone, i will realise how hard it is. to be alone again, after knowing what it feels like to not be lonely. to be with you. i will have been better off not knowing this, not knowing you.
so i love you, and so i lose you.