once, i heard that artists are prone to mental illnesses; especially poets.
i looked up what it means to be prone to something, and it was defined as "likely or liable to suffer from, do, or experience something unpleasant or regrettable".
and it's true, i have been prone to mental illnesses since i was just 12, but i feel more prone to you than i do to the chemical imbalance in my brain.
wait, no, i'm wrong.
i'm not "prone" to you, because i wasn't likely to suffer from you, i was destined to.
you were always right there in front of me. even when i had someone else, you were always standing in the back, you were always present.
it's like my destiny was to suffer because of you. and although the aftermath is unpleasant and horrid, i can't call you regretful.
you've been sitting quietly in my mind since the day we met all those years ago, and you don't seem to be leaving any time soon.