I wish I didn't drive you away with my carelessness, my brash speech, my unknown shattering of your dreams.

I wish you weren't so disappointed. You wanted so much. I gave you everything. Yet instead of fulfilling you it overwhelmed you, surrounded you,  drowned you. If only we knew how to swim through the tempest.

I drowned you. But you pulled me under as well. I can't discern which of us aches more, which one of us has the strongest chest pains of anxiety, which one of us is likely to lapse back into acute self-destruction.

I'm driven to burn myself again. I want to feel the scalding metal of the lighter pressed deeply into my skin. I want a distraction from you. Yet, I don't deserve relief from this calamity.

I deserve to weather every psychological scar.