Being rejected by my parents was painful. I was their child, and they were my mom, my dad. They had raised me, protected me, encouraged me, held me up. And then...they decided to shut their door to me.
I had left so many things behind with them. My entire life, my entire past, all of my memories were things that I remembered with my parents standing in the background. The slightest thing reminded me of them.
Lily had helped. In the many memories in which my parents stood, watching over me, they had been replaced by her.
At first it was a blessing, the perfect medicine to seal a bleeding wound. Except now...all of my dearest memories have Lily in them. Most of the best moments of my life had her.
If I lost her, I would have nobody to help me the way she had. My mind would be tainted with hateful parents and a wonderful thing that had been.
I became obsessed with keeping her, and at the same time, denying her. I couldn't afford giving her more of me. Counterproductive as it sounded, as unhealthy as it was, it worked for a while. I could spend time with her, without giving her more of my heart.
She confronted me one day, though. I was so scared. I knew that I had made the wrong decision, quite despite myself. If I had told her, she might have gotten angry and made my nightmares come true. She would have left, and my heart would have clung to her, preferring to sever itself from me, leaving me empty.
Why wouldn't she leave, really? Our relationship was troublesome; it had to be a secret, we had to make extra effort so that nobody could see. It was tiring; even I felt that. And now she's spending time with someone who wouldn't give her part to this? Who would work for no pay? Who would gamble with absolutely no chance of getting any money back?
I denied her my answers. I hurt her.
I was lost.