Categories > Original > Drama
"You don't need this." I spit threw my teeth. But you don't hear me.
Of course you ignore me. You always ignore me. I say stop. You just go. I say no, you hear yes. I say don't do this. You do it.
I sit and I watch. I watch you do it. I don't try to stop you. I know what would happen. You would hate me. You would yell. You would hit. You would do what you need to do. Then you would start all over again. I would cry. And again you would ignore me. You would continue to do what you call fun. You would do what you said gave you life. It's too bad what gave me life, is what was dying slowly, right in front of my eyes.
You were slowly killing your self. Yes, that is what you were doing. You were giving up your life. And I would sit and watch. I sit and watch with disgust. I would hate what you do, but I would alway still love you.
You sit there and take it all in. You take in the image of the thin white lines. You take in the image of scattered powder as you exhale your breath. And I take in the image of you. You don't care when I am in pain. You care when you lose the smallest bit of shit. But you just sit there and ignore me falling apart. Is that the image you want in my head when I think of you? Do you want me to think of the coward. The loser. The ass hole who destroyed my life. Or do you want me to see you as who I want to see you as.
We both want the same image. But one of us knows that can't happen. One of us knows I can't think of you as a real person. Not when you do this. Not after what I've seen happen so many times. Not after what I've been threw with you. Trust me, I want a better image. I want to see you as you when I think of you. I want to see you with a smile. I want to see you with bright eye and a reflection of me, with a smile on my face. But I see you, with dark eyes, and a reflection of small white lines. The white lines you give your life to. But I won't give my life to it. I won't let it happen.
So I make a choice. I think. That is your life. You are mine. I love you. You love it. You know I care about you. But you only care about your shit. You never listen to me. But I always listen to you. Then I think of the first thing you said to me. I was shy then. I could never open up. But now I wish that never changed. I wish I never opened up.
"It takes two voices to make a conversation." You said with that boyish smile. The smile I fell for. The smile I live for.
But I make my choice. I decide, it does take two voices to have a conversation.
"Can you just stop for a second?" I say. "Just stop and try to think about what you're doing." I say, waiting for the second voice.
There is no second voice.
Nothing... You just stare at me with disgust.
It takes two voices to have a concersation.
And with that, I leave. I leave you. I leave you and you don't try to stop me. I run now. If you do decide to stop me, I don't want to listen to it. I don't want to be pulled back in so I run.
If you did talk, If you became the second voice for the conversation, you would know...
I love you...
Of course you ignore me. You always ignore me. I say stop. You just go. I say no, you hear yes. I say don't do this. You do it.
I sit and I watch. I watch you do it. I don't try to stop you. I know what would happen. You would hate me. You would yell. You would hit. You would do what you need to do. Then you would start all over again. I would cry. And again you would ignore me. You would continue to do what you call fun. You would do what you said gave you life. It's too bad what gave me life, is what was dying slowly, right in front of my eyes.
You were slowly killing your self. Yes, that is what you were doing. You were giving up your life. And I would sit and watch. I sit and watch with disgust. I would hate what you do, but I would alway still love you.
You sit there and take it all in. You take in the image of the thin white lines. You take in the image of scattered powder as you exhale your breath. And I take in the image of you. You don't care when I am in pain. You care when you lose the smallest bit of shit. But you just sit there and ignore me falling apart. Is that the image you want in my head when I think of you? Do you want me to think of the coward. The loser. The ass hole who destroyed my life. Or do you want me to see you as who I want to see you as.
We both want the same image. But one of us knows that can't happen. One of us knows I can't think of you as a real person. Not when you do this. Not after what I've seen happen so many times. Not after what I've been threw with you. Trust me, I want a better image. I want to see you as you when I think of you. I want to see you with a smile. I want to see you with bright eye and a reflection of me, with a smile on my face. But I see you, with dark eyes, and a reflection of small white lines. The white lines you give your life to. But I won't give my life to it. I won't let it happen.
So I make a choice. I think. That is your life. You are mine. I love you. You love it. You know I care about you. But you only care about your shit. You never listen to me. But I always listen to you. Then I think of the first thing you said to me. I was shy then. I could never open up. But now I wish that never changed. I wish I never opened up.
"It takes two voices to make a conversation." You said with that boyish smile. The smile I fell for. The smile I live for.
But I make my choice. I decide, it does take two voices to have a conversation.
"Can you just stop for a second?" I say. "Just stop and try to think about what you're doing." I say, waiting for the second voice.
There is no second voice.
Nothing... You just stare at me with disgust.
It takes two voices to have a concersation.
And with that, I leave. I leave you. I leave you and you don't try to stop me. I run now. If you do decide to stop me, I don't want to listen to it. I don't want to be pulled back in so I run.
If you did talk, If you became the second voice for the conversation, you would know...
I love you...
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