You think you’re the only one who loves him. Only your heart races when he walks into a room, only your spine tingles at his fingertips. You forget I’m there too. I feel it all you know, as if it were real; as if I were real.

I love him.

You say you hate your life but you get to be with him; you’re the one he loves. I can only feel him when he caresses your cheek, kisses your lips. It’s like this fire blazing uncontrollably inside me, but I can’t know if any of it’s what I actually feel. Imagine that, being unable to distinguish which of your feelings are your own.

I don’t have a life to hate, I fall somewhere between your world and non-existence...alone. Few know the feeling like I do; trapped in a never ending whirlpool, inescapable and infinite. I’m forever stuck behind a sheet of glass, watching you live my life for me.

You forget that my mouth moves with yours, that your tears never fall alone. I know you hurt, that the world seems like such a terrifying place. You’re so helpless to the way time ticks on, knowing that everything around you is slowly changing, that faces you once thought of as familiar slowly mould into those of strangers. But I only live when you let me. Imagine what it would be like, to only feel or think what you were told to.

What kind of a life is that?