Every day, when I walked out of my sessions, she would be standing there. Swaying, or humming to her own tune in her beautiful mind. The same smile, so natural on her face it was a sin for it to ever be absent, that I would see each time I woke up in the hospital bed, again, and again, and again. I thought to myself, this will be the time, the time that I change it all around for us, because she deserved nothing better.

As the years went on, and our bank accounts swindled to dust, she was always still standing there outside the office. But she did not look as beautiful and glowing as 6 years ago, when this had all begun. Back when she alone, had pulled me back from death with her fingers shoved down my throat, and burning vomit on her shirt, and tears shining on her cheeks. Each time I walked through the door, her skin seemed paler, her bones thinner, her hair more tangled, and her blue eyes, once the sparkling light of the galaxy, now only offered a smoldering glow of exhaustion and defeat. She was pure light, a blazing fire resonated in her soul, but I was the shadow she could not live without that blocked her radiation from the rest of the world. She would burn herself out, implode on her own existence before she ever let me fade away again.


All it cost was her life.


Though I knew this, I could never say those words that always poisoned my tongue when she would still be standing there, like an old, stubborn, deeply rooted willow tree after floods, and hurricanes and devastating earthquakes that broke the rector scale. “Leave me,” what was left of a tattered and broken, sold out soul, begged for these words to free her of me, of us, of our love, or maybe it was something else. Something more addicting than anything I had ever come across in my reckless love life with danger, always tapering on the very cliffs of finality. They would not form into physicalness, eroding the tip of my tongue every single day, every dinner, every breakfast. Sitting across the table which had once been full of her admirable force of determination to save me, from the brink. Now there was only a tired silence, as if something had tried harder than itself to claw its way back into our lives, and eventually realized we were not worth saving. Whatever “we” were.


When you are on a trip, or a high, there is a certain power rush, adrenaline, immortality, devilish cunning to manipulate those around you to Your will. More than the chemical imbalance in your brain, this feeling was a hungry drive for more. How many people were below you, could you control, could you plead your life away for one more fix. How much destruction could you cause before you crashed and burned, forced back into your miserable life of mundane, gut-wrenching mortality. However, none of those things compared to the power it caused on someone who was closest to you, who traded their heart to be part of you. The power of watching a fiery, blazing sun whose light reached out far beyond your own soul to all those around you; slowly dim, dim, dim, dim, until there was nothing but star dust left in their cold, hardened eyes.


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