Schizo

Stop. Stop coming after me.

What do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?

Leave. You need to leave, you’re scaring me.

Are you even real? Or are you playing tricks on me again?

They keep telling me that you’re not real, but I know you are. You’re always there, in the back of my mind. Always lurking about, waiting to make your entrance. Waiting to make my mind yours. I have no control over when you come, when you leave, or how long you stay. So how are they going to tell me that you’re not real? When you’re there, all the time.

I feel your presence, I feel you breathe. It’s like you count your breaths. In and out, in and out. It’s like you want me to know that you’re here, watching my every move, planning your next attack. Your rough, ragged breath is like a tune, constantly singing me into a dark nightmare. A nightmare that never goes away. How can you do this to me? We started off as friends. What happened?

I suppose this might be my fault. That my attitude towards you when you arrived might have driven you to believe that I deserve this treatment. That I deserve this torture. I didn’t want you there. I wanted you gone. I still want you gone. I suppose that’s whats made you angry. What’s causing this destruction. But I don’t deserve this. Nobody deserves this. You are killing me. Slowly, loudly, and painfully.

I wonder when you decided that you were to claim my mind. Why not somebody else? Why not someone else’s poor soul? Are you hiding in others minds too? Or is it your own, personal mission to destroy my mind? In a strange way, I hope that I am the only mind that you enter. I don’t want anyone else to endure your persistent abuse.

I know that this is not fair. That you take over my life while others float through, with little struggle, little pain. But that’s what you taught me; life is not easy for everyone. Everyone faces their own conflicts and struggles. Everyone handles them in their own way. I want to thank you for that valuable lesson, even though it will not be useful to me once I am gone. I hope that once I finally escape, you will be able to teach this lesson to someone else, in a much more pleasant way.

I wish that I could be here to teach this lesson myself, but I can’t handle you anymore. You’ve become too much. You’ve taken over my life, and I have no hope of gaining it back. So I am done. For good. But this is not a sad thing. Our story will not end on a sad note. Because although this may be an end to my story, it might not be an end to yours. So go, find another tortured soul to melt your way into. Find someone who’s happy to have you there. This may be the end of my chapter, but it is the new beginning of yours.

Thank you. Thank you for your malicious outlook on life. But I don’t want this anymore. Don’t worry though, I am leaving with a smile. One you won’t forget.