We.

I feel the distance between us and it tears me apart. I remember how it used to be, the easy closeness I long to regain. I think of all the things I want to say to you, explain to you, wish that I could say to you, but don't know where to start. The mistakes I've made. Destruction I've caused. The power I hold in my hands, the potential to fix, cure, heal, wantonly disregarded throughout the course of an inexplicable mission of self-unfulfilment.

I cling to the oh-so-slightly uneasy truce we've arrived at. My flicker of hope reflected by you. It'll be OK, we're telling ourselves. I can reach you. Touch the depths of your soul without shock when I find what it contains. I try to open up myself to you. Dare you to remember how to love me. To still like me whatever it is that I am inside.

I wish you could know how much I need you. Love you. Miss you. The strength you impart to make me more than I am alone. How lost and confused I'm feeling inside. Scrabbling for answers. Desperate for resolution. Fearful of what lies ahead. My coldness a mask of self-preservation. Locking you out. Denial of the turbulence buried inside.

Before the crash

Soul destroying. So destructive. No matter how hard I try I do everything wrong. Even when I think I've fixed it I haven't. Pointless. Hopeless. Worthless. Doomed to failure. Try harder. Do better. Super-critical, iron-willed, unforgiving. I shatter and break under your ruthless scrutiny. My failures obvious and otherwise are aired and used against me. Evidence produced of the wrongs I have wrought. Each action examined, found wanting. Destined to fail at every turn.

How can you expect me to love you when you cause me to loathe myself so? I need help. To escape from the pain eating me from the inside out. The desire to hurt myself growing, strengthening with every week that passes. I feel pain coursing through my veins and want to slice them open to allow its release. Shadowy darkness lurking behind me. I can resist, but for just how long? Its waiting, watching, ready to absorb me. To suck me in. Drain me, smother me, surround me. I stand at the edge of a precipice waiting to fall. Each push nudges me closer. How much longer, further can I hold out? Destroy me. Reduce me. The more I hate myself the less I can feel for you.