I don’t understand. Your actions confuse me. I want to ask you why. Wrong. I actually want to ask you a dozen other things first and then perhaps there’ll be a why. I won’t though because I know the answer. I know it because it is the simplest, most logical explanation, and yet I am having to repeat it over and over again in my mind to convince myself it’s the truth.
There is no ulterior motive to your action, there is no motive at all. Your actions simply are what they are. You don’t know that you’re causing this reaction, because if you did you’d stop. After laughing and telling me I get into my head too much sometimes you’d stop.You’d smile and just shake it off as another one of my idiosyncracies and go back to saving me from myself the way you always do, again without even knowing.
I know you’re not them, that you will never be them – because you could never be that cruel, but what you’re doing, it’s killing me. You have no idea and I’ll never tell you. What I feel is completely irrational. Emotions I have no reason to feel. Irritation. Jealousy. Frustration. The things running through my mind. Replaying actions. Trying to decide what it is I did. The moment I stepped too far. The words that were too much. Maybe not even mine. Someone else. Someone who doesn’t know me and doesn’t know you who needed to try and understand this when it doesn’t need to be.
I can’t help but think that they did this to me. I want to blame them so badly for making me think that every good thing in my life could turn into something so ugly, but I don’t think it’s that simple. Perhaps I don’t want to admit that they could touch even this, but if I don’t then that means that this is me. That the thing that can see darkness, even in you, is me.