Don't Make Me Love You

[A letter to Liam from Xerxes Break]

Dear Liam,

I have a reputation to uphold here, ah? You expect me to be annoying, so I'll do that…after all I wouldn't want to disappoint you. So therefore, I'm writing you this annoying letter, since I know you'll have to read it, and reading just one more thing in your busy day is sure to irritate you, hmm?

Well now, I've been doing some thinking about our relationship and there's something about it that has been bothering me. It seems like you are a bit attached to me, in a way that I'm not sure is entirely healthy. For example, you have done things like: protect me from injury at the hand of your lord, caught hold of me when I fainted, and covered me with your jacket when my shirt was ripped. Do you just have some sort of motherly side, or I am the only one who gets this kind of care and attention from you?

There are other things as well, that make me concerned that somehow I am "important" to you. You've done me favors - like giving me advice - which few people in this world would dare to do. You've even offered to help me fix my hair, and even though you grumbled about it the whole while, just the fact that you were willing to touch me without smacking me upside the head was, ehm, almost flattering.

In addition, you offer to do my work for me, which results in our spending more time together reviewing it. All this time we've spent together…well I'm not sure it's a good idea. You are one of the few people in this world who has seen me without my clownish facade. You smack me when I deserve it and take out your anger on me - my masochistic side appreciates that about you.

On a good day, when I'm feeling particularly secure, I am happy to call you "my important friend." But you know I won't do it sincerely. I will grin like a fool and pretend our friend ship is kind of a joke. Then I'll do something cruel to you. Because I can't admit that I really like you.

Some days, when I'm feeling more lonely than usual, I wish I could see your face and be warmed by your presence. Other days I even admit to myself that I wish I could touch you in an honest, sincere way. But then I worry that if I grow to enjoy your company anymore than I already do, I might start to feel something like 'love' for you. And I simply cannot love you.

Don't make me love you, please. If I were to love you, I might risk my life for your sake. If anything bad were to happen to you, I might wish to change the past to erase all harm from your precious person. The grief of losing you – my dear friend - might tear me apart and make me go completely and utterly mad.

And you wouldn't want that now, would you, hmm?

Kindest regards,

Xerxes Break