Disclaimer: Does anybody ever really say they own it? Does anybody ever actually own it? I doubt it. It would seem odd to obsess over your own work. I own nothing. (See?)
Author's note: Boq's point of view. (Because I'm unique, I spell out 'point of view.' See? I am Elphaba. Muhahaha! Cough-and-because-I-have-the-time-cough.)
"We deserve each other." That was her words, her exact words. And he hadn't denied them. "We deserve each other, don't we Boq?" He hadn't denied them. He should have, but he didn't. Now he was ruined; his life was.
He had no life, and all because of her. He had no freedom, because of that one woman. He wished he could simply walk away and leave her, but his heart wouldn't let him. He couldn't simply abandon her, even though he should. He knew he should leave, and go woo his true love, but such things were not that simple.
Life was a fragile thing that should be cherished and appreciated, he knew this; he had been taught this since birth, but some people could not be cherished. Some people could not be held near and appreciated. This made his head spin, as it went against everything he had once believed, everything he had been taught.
He wished he could cherish her; appreciate her, but it was incredibly hard when someone treated you in a way you did not appreciate, yourself. Even if your heart wanted you to be thankful, your brain would deny you the privilege, and replace that need for the need of anger; the need of loathing; the need of hate. He didn't like hating her, he at times, wanted to love her. But his brain would not let him.