Sometime I wish you left when you meant to.

Because then I wouldnt have to hurt. I wouldn't have to feel these things because they'd still be bottled up, buried where they couldnt hurt me. I measure have been perfectly happy living my pointless, one goal to the next and hope to god you die young existence. Well, not happy; I didn't let myself feel really anything then. But not unhappy either. Ignorance is bliss after all. And back then I didnt know how fucked up I really was. I had an inkling, but it was buried so deeply it didn't warrant consideration. I didnt have these nights; I didn't feel this pain. Or maybe the night that would have caused you to leave would have caused me to feel this pain anyway, but the thing is I wouldn't have needed to get better. I wouldn't have even needed to get through it. I get through it for you; I want to get better because of you, because I don't want you to miss out on your life because I'm busy missing out on mine. If you had left I wouldn't need to. If I fell apart there wouldn't have been anyone who cared around to watch it. I could have ignored this for the rest of my life if you had just left when you wanted to, and you wouldn't have had to deal with skipping hanging with your friends because of me. For any reason. I want to fix these things because I hate the fact that I am ruining your life. But they aren't easy to fix, and I'm hurting you in the meantime.