He’s nowhere, but he’s everywhere.
He’s in my head, he’s in my dreams, he’s in my nightmares.
He’s not here, but I can feel his emerald pearls staring through my soul, as if they can read me from a distance.
As they know me better than I know myself.
And I want him gone, I want him gone so badly. But all I can do is slice the metal along my arms, blaming myself for letting him go.
I want him gone, but I want him back.
I want all of him for myself; I don’t want to share. I want to love him, obsess over him, and to lace my fingertips with his. I want to love him although he did the opposite to me. I want to forgive him, although what he did was unforgivable.
At the same time, I want to hurt him. Payback for hurting me so badly that I lost my own self, for hurting me so badly that I had to beg to get myself back up. The limp is still there, reminding me of him every day, every time I try to run away from everything.
No one wants to help me anymore. My friends are getting sick of his name, my family only hurts me even further, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
What’s wrong with me?