I'm sitting here letting my own demons drown me as you freely do as you please. What am I to do? This is my fault, I can almost feel it. The second you turn your back, everything slips and reverses until they're in control. It never used to be this way, you know. You were always there, pulling me up and away from the darkness that lingers in my peripherals. Who's to say that I'm merely crazy and illogical to think that you ever legitimately cared for my well being, and the idea that you might one day prove everyone wrong. Did I drive you away, or did you drive yourself away with your cynical isolation? What this seems to be is your futile attempt to push me over the edge, far past any point of return, for your simple satisfaction and freedom. Am I only dead weight to you, ready to be thrown overboard and long forgotten? Perhaps it's just me and I don't understand a single thing that's been going on, and I would if you would exchange words with me. But alas, I can't. For you keep me in the shadows long enough to question my own sanity, then bait me back into the light you so graciously present to me and me only. I cannot express enough how often my heart throbs of excruciating pain and sorrow every time you retract yourself into your cave of hidden ventures. I will forever be unable to truly describe the intricate cracks and lines you have carved into my being. I can show you, that is, if you're willing to pay enough attention to detail. I wonder if you'll be able to see how and why my scars run deeper than mere cuts and scratches. I wonder if you'll come to terms with what you've done and how much damage you inflicted on my already bruised heart and soul. I pray to whatever unknown existence that lies beyond the barrier of this universe that you will forgive both me and yourself for everything that has happened since our worlds collided. I hope that you soon find the courage and audacity to stay here with me and enjoy all that life has to offer down to our final breaths. I know I'd do it for you.