AN: In a nutshell this is Kyle and Cartman's internal conflict about their emotions for each other, because let's face it, who doesn't love a piece of insight into the twisted passion that is their relationship? There's a reference to the events of the episode 'Smug Alert' so it would probably help if you've seen it but if you haven't you can still pretty much understand the story.

"Love is a reciprocal torture" – Marcel Proust

Kyle

Once you hate someone there's no going back. You let the anger and unjustifiable rage take over as it shoves all chance to feel anything else for that person out of the way and fills the space they left, so how can love be any different? How can it possibly be spared from the merciless wrath of hatred when nothing else is?

Simple; It can't. But yet by some unholy miracle it still slipped through the cracks of my hatred somewhere along the way. Maybe it was always there, slowly beating away, the heart of this big ugly monster of detest I hold for the fatass.

But why did I have to notice it? Why did I have to realize that every time he spoke to me my heart fluttered just a little more wildly? Why did I have to give in to every fight he obviously picked with me when I knew it would just egg him on further? Why did I have to hate that stupid smug smirk of his so much that it drove me to near insanity?

Because though I often wished aloud that he would disappear from my life, I knew I didn't truly want that. I would protect him from harm as long as I could. Hell, I risked my life saving him from drowning in some cave once. And I know I'd do it again.

Why would I? I can't completely answer that nor any of my other questions to be honest. I just know that Cartman's obnoxiously permanent presence in my life somehow matters to me, and I couldn't cope without him there, even if he was constantly ridiculing me.

And he's an idiot anyway. What would he do without me? He fucking froze himself, went to Somalia, got AIDS, the works. How could I not worry about his stupid safety?!

But could I truly hate him if this is how I feel? If this is how I feel could it… maybe even mean I love him? Is my heart trying to tell my brain something I'm oblivious to?

No. I must hate him.

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, the coin of madness. It's impossible to flip and get both sides. Once the coin has landed it has landed. I know that much.

Our coin landed oddly though, not flat as gravity predicts. It hit the ground of my feelings standing upright, perched on a balancing point. That's how I feel when I'm around him. Like it's all a balancing act and I can't let him see me fall for him, because I know there's no net waiting to catch me if I do. When I do….

Eric

Fine, I'll admit it. I'm an asshole, a jerk, a cancer, I'll even go as far as to call myself the equally selfish and manipulative male version of Barbara Streisand for crying out loud, but it's not my fault. Everyone else made me like this. It's all their fault.

I tried. I tried to fit in, to be 'kewl', to be likeable but no one seemed to care. At school they all ignored me, pretended I wasn't there, just a fat lump of an eyesore in the class. And at home my mom was too busy with some random guy in her bedroom than to spare me the time of day. I was still young when it became too much for me. The indifference penetrated me to my very core. It twisted me, changed me. It left me eternally hungry for attention, good or bad.

And he gave it to me. He retaliated the most when I threw words at him; jinger, greedy, soulless, Jew, 'Kahl'. He ate them up and spat them back at me. He always had something to respond with, always something to say to me. Whilst everyone else sat in silent detest, he lashed out at me, gave me the acknowledgement I longed for. I lived for each insult he labelled me with. Because without him I was nothing but a shadow.

It hurt me though, how he gave his attention to Stan without any provocation in the slightest, while I was trying so hard to earn it for myself. Stan always got in the way. I think he was one of the factors that drove the Jew and me apart; every time that blue hatted hippy left Kyle alone we seemed to grow closer. But that always shattered when Stan returned, he always returned to Kyle without fail. Jealousy was a common ally of mine in those times.

Sure, they were just 'super best friends' but I meanwhile didn't know anyone I could hope to call a 'best friend' or even just a friend. Kenny and I were often grouped up but there was no real bond there and we both knew it deep down. And while Butters often spent his time with me, he didn't give me the same reactions my subconscious endlessly hungered for as him. I don't even know why Butters wasted his time around me, I treated him like shit but he was ever present like a lost puppy. We weren't friends, I was merely someone who he let control him and I took advantage of that, wouldn't you?

No, Kyle was the closest thing I had to such a thing as a friend, albeit our relationship was never exactly amicable, but he had Stan and nobody had me. It hurt to know that I wasn't the only person he wanted. That I wasn't the only person he needed.

I never exactly knew when my subconscious had placed the green hatted dork on such a high pedestal in my life but it was when he first moved away to San Francisco with his annoying jew family that I first realized how much he meant to me. I acted as you would expect at first, happy to see the back of him, I even threw a goddamn party to celebrate! But Stan knew. Stan knew long before me that I'd miss Kyle. That my life was "empty and hollow" without him, and it took me a while to understand just how true those words were, but when I did it hit me hard.

I tried to ignore it, I used Butters to fill the void. But as I have said before, despite Butters following my every order like the suck up he was I still felt lost and frustrated. I needed Kyle to come back to me. And when I heard about the smug storm that was going to hit I decided to go and get him myself. Because who would I be if the one person I craved was gone forever? I couldn't let him die, not for him, for me.

I never intended for my emotions to get this far ahead of me. I hated Kyle, because that's what brought him closer to me. Loathing only made me want him more. I wanted to spend every minute of my life detesting him if that meant he in turn would think about me just as much. I craved his hatred, because that's all he gave me, always negative yet always reliably there. Beggars can't be choosers after all but if he… if he gave me love instead of hatred would I crave it just as much? Would I return it just as much? And if I gave him my own love, would he do the same? Would he even want it?

No, that would leave a chance of rejection and I can't have him leave me, because he is all I have and all I need. I'd be empty without him, his reactions give me purpose. Hatred is safe, hatred is secure. Love is a complicated monster who would only serve to mess up whatever screwed up thing I have with him.

Will I ever cure this twisted obsession I have for him? Signs point to no.

AN: Oh god, what kind of monstrosity have I written? Oh well, I've posted it for you guys to judge now... This is a two-chaptered fic by the way and in the next chapter we'll get to see Stan, Butters and Kenny's points of view. I'll be posting it in a matter of days. I'd love to hear what you think so please review :)