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The Idea of Me.

You don't love me. You love the idea of me. That man died a slow death on a cross that you crucified me on in 2011. That man is dead. I'm no longer him, I haven't been that man or that boy that you loved in a very long time. 


Whoever I was, I'm not him anymore. All of that is on you. But I am at peace and you don't get to ruin that or my happiness. I tried. But now I'm done. 


I made peace with the circumstances because fighting my war with you only led to even more ruin for both of us. I needed it to end so we could both be safe. Now I just want to walk away and be done completely. I tried, I tried till the last complete moment.


That moment has come and gone. 


I have made peace with the fact I am yours forever anyways, even if you are not mine. Because you will destroy any other relationship I have had or will ever had, I can't be with anyone else. You've made that very fucking clear. I get it. 


I understand.


Behind this mask there is more than just flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea... and ideas are bulletproof.

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