I've known for some time that I have a problem.
Maybe it was the string of jobs, one after another, that you got me fired from...
That was my first clue. But I reveled in you still. I mean, I didn't think it was a problem
as my life began to spin out of control...
You were always easy to justify. You were the one thing making my life better.
Despite the failed relationships, piling up,
like a car crash on the freeway in rush hour...
Sure, sometimes people made comments. But to me they just seemed jealous
of what we had. With you came a sense of power. Prestige.
By the time I realized what I had become. What we had done.
It was too late...
But I held on. Maybe because I couldn't let you go.
You've been a part of me, the best part, for so long.
You were electricity. Fire. A thousand supernovas
exploding, and we would rise and fly in the waves of cosmic radiation...
But it can never last. The fire would fade. The waves would crash.
And I would begin to sink, looking for you, reaching out, searching,
letting you pull me up. Even as you dragged me down.
It began so slow. So gradually. I don't know when I lost control.
When I became more you than me. You've changed my sense of time,
now measured by the regular highs and lows
that have no relations to clocks or calendars.
Only the desire, which takes over, without me even knowing...
Somewhere along the way the line between you and I,
between the individual and the act, the action, disappeared.
And now I can't even save myself. Us. You.
Because if I do, if I try, if I succeeded,
we'd both be dead.
I clenched you in my fist. Squeezing. And I feel heat. Like a spoon,
held over a flame. Red hot searing pain. But I let you
convince me... I convinced myself... you whispered, I listened
till my fingers fused around you. But the hunger didn't care.
I didn't care...
I see you now. I see exactly what you are. In every mirror,
waiting. Watching. Looking back.
I can't celebrate you anymore. I can't love you anymore.
I can't love myself anymore.