You

Why would you actually want that?

I don't know. I'm not sure how much I actually know for sure anymore. These days, everything seems cloudy. But you wouldn't think like that, not unless something was wrong. But no, no, you're fine.

Don't worry.

Smile.

Be what they need you to be. That's what helps you sleep at night, thinking you're so damn self-sacrificing. Thinking you're so selfless because you're willing to help your friends but can't bring yourself to ask for their help even if you desperately need it. And God knows you do sometimes.

God knows.

And maybe He isn't even the only one.

But you're not everything you pretend to be. Hell even your facade is slightly translucent. Just enough to offer people a glimpse. But not enough to make them stoop down and give you a hand. Because that's what you want isn't it? Because you're too damn proud and arrogant to ask.

It's almost like you're two people, isn't it?

There's one man, strong, eager to live.

And then there's another who barely even deserves to be called a man. And you... You make me sick. And ashamed. Ashamed to be me. Scared to put my name to that part of me, scared to own up. Terrified.

But you can't own me forever.