A/N: The start of a new series of angst drabbles… I know there are too many. But I will leave the who is the 'I' and the 'you' up to you, the readers. Not really meant to be specifically one way. But oh well.

Psychological

You didn't really love me; you just felt you had to because I wanted you to. I wanted more than anything for you to love me, and you only did what made everybody around you happy. Even though now I know how wrong it was for me to want something so bad as to manipulate your strong sense of loyalty and faith. Has nobody ever told you that this child-like attitude is rather depressing, or am I the first to think so? It subjects others to take a good look at your sanity and become saddened to the degree of longing to be like you. But I do not wish to be so easily controlled, and have a strong desire to please all those surrounding me. But I do not wish to be me either. I took advantage of you, coercing you to the point where you actually believed that you love me. But you don't. And neither do I. I do not love me for what I did to you. For if I found love instead of forcing it, you might not have killed yourself last night.