I loved her. I really did. Oh, Ivypool. You hate me, but I did it for you. How could I let you become someone like me? How could I let you become evil? How could I let you die like this? So I pushed you away, for you. I loved you from the bottom of my heart to the very top. That's why I lied and said I didn't really love you.

Your reaction almost broke my heart. You did break my heart when you walked away without so much as a glance to me. I wanted to run after you and tell you that I actually did love you, even though I knew I couldn't. I did it to save you from the real horrors of the Dark Forest. Because that tiny bit you saw was nothing compared to what happens in the dark mist that hangs over the us. Besides, you wouldn't have believed me.

I was nothing after that. I wished I could have died, before I remembered I was already dead. The others didn't notice it. I wouldn't have expected them to. They were in their own little world and I was in mine. For days I couldn't shake my awful words, "I don't really love you, Ivypool. You're just my toy."

How could I have said that? I don't even know.

Then I began to daydream about what could have happened. And did nothing else. I would imagine both of us alive, play with our kits. You would laugh at their antics and smile at me and my heart would fill with joy. They were beautiful, our kits. Just like you.

But I remembered the truth. I wish I didn't. I wish I had stayed there forever, happy. I knew I would never be truly happy unless you were with me. I had never felt this way for any other cat. Not for my family, or any of my friends. Not for any of the Dark Forest cats, for sure.

After I remembered the truth, I began to kill myself emotionally. I would berate myself for saying those words. I tear myself up on the inside. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I wouldn't move. I would just lie there, moaning. You don't get sick in the Dark Forest, I guess that's one of the only ups in this treacherous world, but I was definatly sick. I tore myself up and the others noticed.

In the living world, I would have gotten sympathy. In this evil, ugly, blood filled world, I got slashes across the muzzle, trying to wake me up from my nightmare. I would just stay still, as the blood pooled around me. Why should I care? I was already misrable.

Those cats who live on Earth, and those cats who go to Starclan. Do they know how lucky they are? They get to curl up and share tongues with their mates whenever they want to. They get to watch their kits with loving eyes. They get something I will never have. They take it for granted.

I don't want to go on living like this, just an empty shell, talking to myself. But I have to. Until I have you, Ivypool, I will never be whole again. Until I have you, Ivypool, I will never be happy. Until I have you, Ivypool, I will hate myself.

But I will never have you.

I guess this a kind of counterpart to a poem I wrote a while ago, L I E S. I LOVE IvyxHawk but unfortunately, I'm a very angsty writer.

In defense against all those people who think Hawkfrost is too old, he died young. So "technically", he is young.