Ours was never traditional, love.
I remember the first night you arrived. Bitchy and quiet and just the same as the rest of us but different. I remember you punched Demyx - and felt guilty for so long, after - but you never apologised. I decided I liked you.
And you and I got close; closer than we maybe should have been. You came to me to bitch and moan and I did the same - but without words. At least you understood. I remember laughing, the night I asked you if you'd ever been kissed - you said yes, frowned, wrinkled your nose and glared at me; like I was scum to even suggest it.
Not a traditional romance. You couldn't love me - but you had no problem with sadisim. I could love you, but you wouldn't believe me.
And now you're leaving. It's high time. I think I expected this from day one.
Just don't forget me.