Why must you torture me so? Remind me of all that was left behind, both good times and the bad, leave me stuck in this solid loop of loneliness.
Even now, after all this time, your cries resonate in my head until I'm left in my own misery, even though I know deep down you were never harmed by what happened. You make me feel so old by writing this, the sheer fact that I can't let you go no matter what timeline would have taken place, no matter the outcome. It was so easy to read you, although here and now I seem to have to learn that fine skill all over again.
Even in the beginning, it was so clear what you thought. Maybe that was because of all those years you spent working for LeFey, I don't really know. I thought we'd never go anywhere further than just neutral acknowledgement, but over instances that neutrality started to turn into mutual respect. From there, I know it went so much further, but I'll be damned if I can remember it. Like a cruel joke really, as if being here wasn't bad enough.
He used us both, but you're smart enough to know that. Used you to get to me, used me to get to you. I should have killed him when I had the chance in that chopper crash. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but in the end it was probably for the best that he survived, a means to every end. Now things will never go back to the way they were, even if they do try their hardest to start it over again.
The things you did for me.
The things I do for you.
I'll most likely continue this later. I'm sure there's a lot more to add.
Might as well just leave everything here. Not like I'm expecting a reply or anything.
That'd be the day.
I really hate hindsight. The joy of looking back over everything and going 'I shouldn't have done that/I could have done so much more' multiple times. But in the end, there really wasn't much choice. Even with instinct screaming against it from every angle.
Yes, this was partly my fault. A serious statement, but you somehow managed to make it sound lighter. Even in the heat of an argument. We shouldn't have trusted them, but by then we were in too deep to refuse.
You used to hate being called that, then called it slightly more tolerable and didn't complain as much.
It was all planned, wasn't it? Everything seemed to fall somehow, whether it was meant to or not. LeFey soon planned to adapt, to make the best of everything. Anger, fear, betrayal - all those seemed to reign in that one moment, coursed through both noise and silence. There was always a plan.
Maybe you had it all planned out as well, trying to find an end to all of it.
I don't know who was worse, or if they're as bad as each other. LeFey, to this day, seemed to consider himself more honourable, and in my short experience was less of a jackass... They both seemed nuts to begin with though.
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