You wanted me to be strong. You warned me that the world is not such a nice place. You told me I was too innocent. You told me I was too sensitive. But I never felt the need to change. You were there. You were supposed to be there always. I thought I had you. People like you, still made the world a nice place for people like me. I felt special with you, even though the most vulnerable. Because you were there with me; you held my hand every time the world made it difficult for me. Why did you go? Why did you leave me? Is it because you wanted me to walk alone? Did my vulnerability worry you? Is that why you went away?
If that is your reason, then here I am now. Cold. Insensitive. As mean as ever.
I don't give a damn about anything. I don't care about things I loved most. Hatred has taken the place of love. Distrust has destroyed all faith. Negative thoughts have killed all hope.
Being alone does not hurt anymore. Malice has grown inside. There is an unkindness that reflects in everything I do, or say. That feeling of sacrifice; that sense of understanding; that idea of being nice; all seem filthy old ways of giving yourself up. I am no more what I used to be.
I am what you wanted me to be. Now come back to me?
