The Darkness Inside the Mind
One lover thinks:
Every morning now when you leave me I wonder if you will return. There is little that ties us together. Love, an emotion, a bubble of thought, a single thread. It is not enough, I fear, will not be enough one day, and you'll simply not come home. You kept your own apartment, every knows it, even if you never go there. I never ask why you kept it, never question you about the rent you pay or the reasoning. I simply choose to be grateful each day when you come home. On days when you are late about your work, I sometimes go to find you, and you think that I am being kind when I aid you in finishing up your last few tasks, but truly I am only paranoid.
I know I wouldn't come home to me if I were you. If I were you, I would find someone more stable, someone more able to live the type of life you deserve. If I were you, I would exchange this rusty weapon for a real human being. Sometimes I leave you just to remind you that you have the chance, but I always come back and you always let me. I wouldn't do that either if I were you.
Some days all I can do is thank every God that might exist that I'm not you.
One lover thinks:
Every morning when I leave you, I wonder if you will be there when I return. The first place I go when I get home if you aren't there is to the notepad on the desk, to see if there's a note from you. There always a note from you when you leave while I'm at work, and it's reassuring, but I still steel myself against the day there simply won't be. Or perhaps there will be a note, simply telling me to leave because it's not my home anymore. I keep my apartment just in case, knowing my stay here is tenuous and only by your kindness.
Perhaps things will end that way. In some sort of silent separation, for reasons I won't even know. When you leave silently, it's always in the night when I am sleeping. The first time you left me without warning I imagined it was a sudden secretive mission, the second I thought probably a matter of your own insecurity, the third I wondered if it were another lover, and last time I didn't bother to wonder, only hoped you'd come home. You did, and I didn't even ask any questions.
I know I wouldn't come home to me if I were you. If I were you, I would find someone more capable, someone who could hold up to the stress of your life without giving in to bouts of worry and tears. If I were you, I would exchange this weak man for a strong one. Sometimes I work late just to make myself forget that uselessness, but even that I think only shows you how weak I truly am, that I need such reassurance. I wouldn't put up with my weakness if I were you.
Some days all I can do is thank every God that might exist that I'm not you.
One lover thinks:Thank you for coming home to me another day, Iruka.
One lover thinks: Thank you for letting me come home to you another day, Kakashi.