I don't want to wake up.

I just wanna sleep in, forever... What's even the point of getting up, with nothing to motivate you?

That's a lie.

There's one thing.

I know it's selfish, but I only want to see him.

How could I not?

He's cute, funny, and just overall a joy to be around! And add on a touch of sexy, and you have yourself a typical hottie. Minus the typical, of course.

Thank goodness my missions never took more than three hours at most, lest I go insane. After I do them, I like to visit him.

You know, I like to pretend we're good enough friends that he would share all of his secrets with me, and trust me with them, but I know that that may never happen. Am I selfish for wanting that? I don't think so, but at the same time, I'm not exactly a good judge for these sorts of things. No matter what everyone else says.

Is this healthy for me?

I spend almost every waking moment thinking of him; his warmth, his voice, his laughter, and him calling me a dumbass when I screw up... And then, when I'm actually with him, I find it impossible to ignore him! But, he'll often say things that hurt, and cut me deeper than any stab wound could, and he hits me as well. Rarely! Rarely...

Of course, he isn't aware of the pain I go through to spend time with him. I'm worried that if I tell him, he'll stop spending time with me! I don't want that.. And I also fear my friends telling him this... And my friends trying to seperate us. It's happened before. They all said I was ignoring them, and not talking to them. But that wasn't true! Not at all. I spent time with them, and then my mission would end, and then I would spend time with him! It's not like I had a choice in the matter. Besides, sometimes he doesn't even want me around, I'm sure of it. How? Pft, cause he said so! I simply ignore the flash of pain and urge to cry and give him space, walking off to practice as if nothing happened.

Maybe he does know?

I don't know.

I hope not.

Maybe I'm crazy?

I mean-

I keep pretty much anything he gives me.

Every drawing.

Every random sheet of paper.

Anything he's written on.

Most things of mine he's touched.

After he visits me, ridden with insomnia, and with hopes of sleeping, I refuse to wash my bedding.

Some of the things he's given me are lost in my room, but I don't care.

I have most of it.

That's what matters.

He used to flirt with me. It was really nice. Even if inappropriate most times, but did I care? Nope! I just blushed, and flirted back! He stopped. Now there only vintage memories of it.

Am I okay like this?

I'm not sure anymore.

I'm not sure who I am. WHAT I am.

A pet?

At this point..

Maybe.

April Twenty-first, YEAR-MISSING-XXXX
Cross Peñaloza