Why is it that those we leave behind can still hurt us? I thought that you were gone from my life but then you came bursting back in, hair ablaze, eyes shining with that glimmer of insanity possessed only by you and Death himself. I wanted to forget you, to neatly cut you out of my life, to sink into a pit of amnesia that part of myself that was happy with you.
That's a lie. I could never do that, I'm too scared. Scared as I was to say those 3 little words, I'd shout them from a mountaintop for all to hear if only you were but a mile closer. For more, I can't imagine any end to the lengths to which I'd go.
Perhaps it is merely a manifestation of that sad, dark part of my brain, the flip-side of the coin that makes me who I am. Maybe I shouldn't love you, maybe it makes no sense at all. Maybe I barely know you. Maybe you despise people like me. Maybe I have become all those things you liked that I was not.
Maybe I don't care.
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