Why is it that my mood is dictated by whatever you’re feeling?

It’s not your fault, I know. You can’t help it if I’m a people-pleaser who’s starved for love, an over-thinker who cares too much. This isn’t on you. But every time you feel sad or lonely, every time you tell me you’re having a panic attack or that you want to die, just know that I cannot rest until I know that you are ok. That my mind is consumed with you. It’s not your fault that I care so much about you I forget to care for myself; no, that’s all on me.

But I’m not doing you any favors by valuing your life more that my own. Which I do, by the way. Does that scare you? I value your life more than mine, which is why I deprive myself of sleep so that I can stay up with you when you’re in a dark place.

I really love you, you know. But this kind of love is going to kill one of us soon. And is it so terrible that I want to be the one to die so that you survive? That I want to die before we break apart, so that you only have good memories of me?

Terrible or not, this is my choice. None of this is your fault. Please don’t blame yourself; I choose this, voluntarily. This may be the most selfish thing I ever do for myself regarding you. Because you will miss me, and I will be gone.

But I need to do this. For us.

I love you.

— me.