Rant about death.

I can almost feel it, your adrenaline. The rush you get when you lie, the slight smirk that places on your lips when you tell me you love me.
I can almost feel it, your unbalanced aura. The way your tears fall off your face every evening, the pain in your eyes once you realized I knew.
And I knew since the beginning. I knew since the second I saw you that you’d be bad love. I fell in love anyway.
You broke me, everything I loved you destroyed, so why do I still dream of you, of everything you gave instead of everything you took?
I still hold you close to me though, and still, I look upon our tree, the one thing we’d sit under when we hated every fiber of our being, even when we felt the world was collapsing and god was looking at us in sorrow. In disappointment.
I still remember those words you said to me, the first and only time you said them too. “I love you, carelessly, even when the world is overrun with the salty, unforgiving ocean, I love you.” I never understood what you meant by that. What ocean? Was is a metaphor? Did it mean tears or the rapture?
Possibly a mix of both, or maybe you yourself don't know. Maybe is was just something to butter me up, to make me think our relationship was aesthetic and kind before you’d shatter me
I wonder what would’ve happened to us if it weren’t for the war. If you weren’t drafted by Sebastian, if Zalgo’toth hadn't plucked and smashed the rose we held so delicately maybe we could’ve made it. Just maybe.
I think peculiar is my new favorite word, it holds such wonder, such gloom in every letter. Peculiar. That’s the word I’d use to describe you. Mysterious, dark, lonely, depressed in all the wrong times.
Did everything always amount to you? All the things I did, all the things you did? Was it all for you, was it set in the stars your death? Quite peculiar, I’d say, the thought of us. But it feels right? Maybe that’s the BPD talking.
Why am I having nightmares of you? Aren’t you what I’m supposed to love? I don’t feel like I can love you, but I do? Even with the terrifying pictures and hurtful words I hear? Perhaps. I think perhaps is one of my favorite words too.

I think I’m in love again. With someone so different from you it’s hard to comprehend. He’s kind, thoughtful, and loving. Unlike how you were, huh? We’d fight all day, then by nightfall we’d sit under the stars and hold each other as a means of apologies, but I’m not sure I ever forgave you. He’s better than you, and I love him more. You were my destruction, and he’s patching the wounds you left behind.
Sometimes I can still hear your voice in the back of my head, and I get so angry whenever I do. You left me. You left me for a war you didn’t try to fight in.
“Rage is like an earthquake, separating us, taking away the rights to my mind, taking away all the love I have for life. Taking me from our memories a little bit every day.”