You were like my comatose confessional.
I told you everything.
I confessed to you my every sin, my every fear.
I had never expected for you to crash into my life.
I hated you at first, hated caring for another being when I couldn't even care for myself.
It wasn't until one extremely drunken night that I began speaking to you.
I came to realize you would possibly die anyways.
At first it was little things like my name and favorite bands.
Over time I shared deeper parts of myself with you.
I carved a hole into my chest and handed you my rotting heart.
Such a pitiful offering from a deranged old man to a comatose boy.
I trusted you with no reason.
I loved you with no cause.
Nobody knew, nobody knows including you.
The day of the second crash was both a blessing and a curse.
I felt like Dr. Frankenstein creating something so wretched and divine.
For a moment I fooled myself into believing you were still my doll.
You weren't, you aren't.
I found that you recalled nothing, nothing at all.
I was thrilled that you had washed your mind of all my sins, but at once I despised you.
I gave you a part of myself that nobody else in this disgusting world has ever seen.
I know, I know it isn't your fault.
For the love of Hel you didn't even know why I treated you so cruelly but you took it all in.
That only made me hate you more.
You were no longer my beautiful lifeless doll.
Now you had a name, a voice, and thoughts.
Now I could only fear that you would judge me.
Silly, isn't it?
You don't judge a single soul.
That never stopped me from hiding from you.
I don't hate you Stuart.
I have never hated you.
I just hate that I wasn't important enough to be remembered by you.