roleplay

You used to drink and drink and drink.

You took my hand and guided me through the unfamiliar streets. You were scared of being found. I was scared of getting lost.

I never regretted your death. I shot you to hell and for a long time I didn't realise the boredom I was saving you from.

I showed you the door. I unceremoniously pushed you out of my life. You hated me for doing it. I hated you for never coming back.

Oh, how the roles have been reversed. I now run from reality and try to find an unshaped corner in which to hide. And you… I imagine you wandering paths as old as time in hell, hoping to know what the way back is. Cursing me for sentencing you to this fate.

But you’re but a ghost and, most of the time, I’m convinced I’m alive.