She was in love with life but I was in love with death.

She daydreamed about finding her prince, while I silently dreamt about the day I would finally be able to leave this cruel and lonely world.

It was a sad thought to others, but a joyful one to me.

I horribly wished to end my life although I didn't want to take it myself.

Maybe I secretly wished otherwise. Maybe I just wished someone cared enough about me to change my ugly perspective on life.

It was selfish and mean but it was probably true.

Maybe I just wanted to be saved from an inevitable fate by someone other than myself.