You know that you should have warned me, my dear. I could have helped you, or maybe saved you. I could have been there for you instead of just standing helpless by your side, where I have always been, and looking at you with eyes of a traitor. Truth be told, I'm not the traitor in this scenario; you where the one changing in front of my eyes. A new man. I didn't know this new man at all. And I looked into new eyes and saw into the new soul and didn't like what I saw because it wasn't you anymore. And on the split second of looking in those new blue eyes I thought the world over.

I never thought that you would leave me. You're an institution of my life; one of those people who seem to be there whether they fit or not or you want them to be or not. The thing is, I have always wanted you there. Even before you popped into my life I knew there was someone missing, I just never would have guessed the person who would make me full. And after I have known you I never would have guessed what it would feel like when you were gone.

Yes, gone, my dear. Because I don't know the man that I look at now. He doesn't look like you or behave like you or think like you or breathe like you or love like you. Or at least like you did. Because just because this man has all of the same being as you doesn't mean that he is the man I love- and he certainly isn't. Even you wouldn't deny that he is not you. You are dead, my dear.

The worst part is that in the short time that you have been in my life I have become a new person as well. And the old me I tossed out with the trash the moment I met you, forming completely into your companion. But what am I without you. Because the old me is certainly just as dead as you. And it would be just as impossible to raise this wrong version of me from the dead as to bring you back into your changed body, or to reform myself into the mold of this new man who has taken your stead. So did you know that that so far in my life you have killed me twice? Once in showing up and taking me on such wondrous journeys that I died of awe and was born again in your mold. And then again just here as my mold disappears before I am completely dried. Don't worry though, my dear. I have only ever loved you for it. I suppose that is our thing: saving each other from ourselves.

I remember once that you told me I had saved you. You said that you used to be a different man, and that you had changed only when I came into your life. I don't suppose you were telling the truth. Rule one, you lie. And I know for certain that this couldn't be the case because I was hardly a strong enough person to stand up by myself, let alone fix a person so incredible as you. I'm just sorry that you thought you had to lie. I know why you did too, not then but just know I realize after you are already gone.

I knew exactly how our relationship would work out in the end. I knew exactly how it would end and I tried so hard to avoid it, I really did. But how could I not love you? You who pops into my life when I have fallen so far and stumbled along through the ordinary world. You who takes me to somewhere extraordinary, who takes me to everywhere. You who knew exactly who I was from the moment you saw me, even when I didn't know myself. You who knew I would love you because you knew everything about me and who tried so hard to prevent it because you knew what it would mean.

Because it is you who can never have love. Or happiness. Because you are terrified that it will be torn away. And because I love you I tried so hard to not love you. But you always knew that it would not work. You took a helpless girl out of her personal pit of fiery heck and told her exactly who she was, and it was exactly the person she had always wanted to be. How could she not love you. But I suppose this is why we are here. Me staring into strange and distant eyes where yours were seconds ago. You gone. No, my dear, I never thought that you would leave me, and I never thought that I would be so helpless if you did.

You who filled my holes. You who saved me from myself. You whose side I always would stand by. You whose steady eyes finally swayed. Whose side do I stand by now? His? Even though he is not you? And am I supposed to look at him and smile when he smiles at me, knowing that he is not the man I love? And laugh with him and reminisce because he has all of your memories. Our memories. Thought over in a new mind and spoken through a new mouth and breaking me into pieces with every syllable. You really should have warned me, my dear. You should have told me what on Earth I am supposed to do now that you are gone.