T'lesh...

I don't want to hurt you. Or rather, I don't want to hurt you accidentally, without meaning to.

There's a part of me that wants to hurt everything and everyone I truly care about... that part of me wants to hurt you, too.

Yes, I care about you.

No, I don't know how much... I don't want to think about how much. It just ends up leaving me confused and worried.

*shrugs*

I didn't mean to upset you and although I'm going to try to forget it, please understand that I really am sorry. I want you happy, and ok with life, and content. Not stressed or worried or cranky or tired or hurt... not like that.

I worry about you.

*shrugs again*

Angel...

I've been on Vicodin, on and off, for over a year. It's done a lot of things to my memory. So I am never quite sure if what I remember is the whole story, or even part of the story.

I remember you.

I remember nights when I'd walk through the cold and the rain, hoping to spend just a few minutes talking with you.

I remember praying that what I did, what I was, what I thought and said, met with your approval... and fearing the result if it did not, not just because I was afraid of what you might do, but because the mere thought of displeasing you ripped me apart inside.

I remember missing you.

I remember wanting you.

I remember loving you, in a way that I hadn't even really realized was possible. Girls don't do that, right?

*sighs*

And now you too are upset with me. In a moment of giddy idiocy, I misunderstood your answer to what was, admittedly, a poorly-phrased question on my part. I answered from that excitement and confusion. And I upset you.

Do you even begin to realize that if you demanded it, I would give you the world, still?

I thought not.

And I suppose it's best that I not tell you.

I'd meant this to eventually be a sent letter... but I guess it's better that it stay unsent.

If you don't know what hold you have on me, there's no reason for me to tell you, right? You don't need that knowledge. You don't need me.

*curls up, quiet*