How utterly...disgusting.

Oh, was that too harsh? Forgive me. I am a rather blunt person. You probably have no idea what I'm rambling about. Or maybe you do? How am I to know?

You're with him.

Always with him.

It started out as a joke really. "Oh, you like him! You so do!" and "He likes you too! Haha, you should totally get together." is all I ever heard when I was around you and your friends. I'd chuckle and make a smartass comment when I felt it was appropriate, but I never meant it.

If I had to point out any of my mistakes, I'd have to say...telling you to "go for it".

Wasn't it obvious that I never really wanted you to?

Sure, he's a good friend of mine. I like being around him, whenever I feel bored enough. We get along well enough. But now…

Now I feel something completely different. It's a sickening feeling actually. You know what I'm talking about right? It's that feeling right as you ride in a roller coaster. It's that lurching of your stomach when you go up or down an elevator. It's that utter disgust you get when you see something so putrid that you have to turn away or vomit.

Unfortunately for me, I can't look away. It's right in front of me. You don't make it a point to hide your newly formed relationship. I can't not listen either. Every word from your mouth is either "I love everything about him!" or "I don't understand how lucky I got to get a guy like him!" You force these words upon me, because I'm your best friend.

Your right-hand man.

Your partner in crime.

Your something, when everything falls apart.

However, I think the roles have changed. No wait...I know. I know they've changed.

He's your best friend.

He's your right-hand man.

He's your partner in crime.

He's your...everything.

What does that leave me as? What am I to you anymore?

Oh, there you go again. Talking about him like he's special. Note that I speak these words spitefully.

Hatefully.

Yet, lovingly.

I'm lifeless puppet full of paradox, anger, sadness, and then emptiness.

The pressure of emptiness I feel is indescribable. And I absolutely loathe it.

But, what can I do? I'm your voodoo doll, a simple plaything. You have complete and utter control of me.

Throw me around.

Stick pins in me.

Tear me to shreds.

Break me.

Just love me.

It's too much to ask for, isn't it?

"You know...I can't stand it anymore." I said to you. Of course, you were too oblivious to understand. You were too delirious. Too fucking stupid.

You walked right into my life and fucked everything up. Why? Didn't ANYONE care to hear what I THOUGHT? DID YOU EVEN CARE AT ALL ABOUT HOW I FELT!? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME!? DONT. FUCKING. RUN. AWAY. FROM. ME.

A delicious sound of a crunch came from below my body. How...satisfying.

I love you.

Crunch.

You love me as well?

Snap.

No?

Crack.

You want me to stop?

Crunch. Crunch.

I'm hurting you?

Snap. Snap.

Why am I doing this to you?

Crack.

Because I love you.

I don't want you to see him again. I don't want to hear you say his name again. I want you to look at me only. I want you to say my name only. Love me only.

Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. Better than him. Let me fix your broken self. I'll make you better.

Dressed in white satin, adorned with delicate red roses, and perfectly glossed lips. You're so beautiful. Your dull blue eyes, that once held a bright shine, bore into my own dull brown eyes. I'd love to bury myself in you. Become one with you.

However, I must clean myself. My hands, caked with your blood. Such a beautiful crimson. As I wash my hands, I look into the reflection and see you. You staring at me with saddened eyes, whispering a chant of "why?" over and over.

Forgive me.