“Farewell” his voice rang through my ears like some metal hitting the walls. As his perfect contour gained some distance from me, I felt a surge of electricity run through me. He was, after all, my own source of sanity, my reason to stay and to live.

“Don’t go.” I could hear myself say, but my voice was just a mere whisper. He chuckled and turned around, eyes full of tears as he looked at me, slowly breaking in front of me, my living torture.

“Why do you keep doing this to youself? To me?” He said, his voice now stained with pain, regret. I lowered my face and bit my lower lip, holding in a sob that was threatening to escape.

“Not to you.” I spoke. He inhaled deeply, letting his weight rest on his left leg. I could see his shadow on the floor, a dark reflection of his slow movements. His hand flew to his head and then back down, hanging on his sides.

“You weren’t supposed to feel!” He yelled, exasperated. I inhaled the last breath I could take in and looked at him. A weird smile creeping on my face, even if I wanted to smirk, the pain was too much to bear. As I looked at him, all hopes of living failed with the withering face he was presenting me.

“Neither did you.” I said with what I hoped was an evil smirk on my face. I was losing it, and was trying to hold on to the last thin line of hope there was between us, and he… He never saw...