Dear A Lost Friend,

You know, by the time I saw you I was broken for the second time. You were simply another person to give out false happiness to,  sadness too. I never thought we'd get that far, how our relationship had sparked something.

After the reset, you became like a bright shining light in a dark haze. As it was, I was still extremely down. However, as we talked more and more and as our relationship grew further you continued to unknowingly help me get sparks of happiness back.

After you told me your goal, I was a raging bonfire. Yet, an insane and uncontrollable one. You fueled that fire, that desire. You continuously helped me, even without your knowing.

Then, as all uncontrollable fires do, they dim out. Even though it took a few months, it near dwindled to a mere flame. That I suppose is when I told you I didn't care. I simply didn't care. However much I did, is uncertain.

As you replied to those harsh words, burned out yourself when it came to me, the fire disappeared yet again. After that fire,  I wished for it so much more. That insanity, the sadistic pleasure of thinking of just how we'd rule.

It hardly came anymore, it was then a blistering cold in my metaphorical heart. However, more people came closer and closer; our relationship forgotten. A new flame bloomed, it was a warm an comforting one.

After that, the flame rarely went out,  only when I thought of our last shared memory; or the happy times as we danced and talked on the phone like the lovely couple we were.

No longer am I filled with that raging bonfire, now I am filled with a relaxed sea, no longer a fire of warmth or a blistering cold; simply a calming sea.

I am unsure if I am broken again, though as I was broken I simply had no wood for any desires. No heat,  no cold, nothing. A simple void as it was. I'm sure you would understand, you always seemed to be more psychotic than met the eye.

After all, psychopaths do not feel emotion,  so by that meaning; did you not feel the fire as well? Or maybe you did, and you lied the entire time.

It holds no meaning for me, as you are simply a passing thought I write letters to. Goodnight, old friend.