Dear favourite person,

I am back again. Yeah, back once again to bore you with my ‘I love you so much’ confessions and ‘Please promise me that you won’t leave me’ ultimatums. But this post isn’t about me, it’s about you. Your patience, your kindness, your gravity, all of which allow me to exist in your universe without for once being made to feel like I’m unwanted.

Yet, my brain tells me that this is the last time we’ll speak. That you have reached your tipping point. That today is the day you abandon me. And it crushes me, so much so that I just want to die. I just want to jump outside from my balcony because the realisation kills me. But then, a rational part of me gets angry at me, and to some extent you, for making me feel this way (even though you’ve done absolutely nothing for me to feel this way).

Another reason I feel so, is because I am acutely aware of how irrational I am being and the nature of unreasonable pressure I’m subjecting you through. Which makes me hate myself even more. And sometimes makes me hate you as well. Not like it’s your fault, but somehow it is, because I cannot hate you no matter how hard I try.

I wish I could sever you off of me, but the very next moment I want to die. My very existence is pivoted around you and that is so grossly unfair to the both of us. For me it’s all or nothing. I want you so badly. (I mean this in the most platonic way) but I also want to stop obsessing over you the way I do. When you speak to me, I spin into a mini-manic episode. And when you leave me on seen, it’s the end of the world.

But I write this, unsure of whether I will share this with you ever, but with the hope that I will somehow, someday establish healthy boundaries in our relationship and learn to respect and uphold that, for the sake of both of our sanities.

And until I get there, I need you to put up with my blind love, idolisation, clinginess, recklessness, and abject madness. I am trying. I promise I am, it takes everything in me to not push the send button, to hold it back, to suppress the dying urge to just ask you for attention, validation, and affection. But I am trying and I will continue to try, for as long as I am alive.

Love, (Sorry for this)

Milana