You are difficult, Max. So difficult, but I can read you better than you know. After eight hundred and ten days it would be a bit pathetic if I didn't. Sometimes I feel stupid. Why am I holding on to you when I could fully live my life, fall in love with someone else, feel wanted. There's something there. Not in a weird obsessive way, but there's something. The attraction between us is so strong that we couldn't stay away from each other even if we wanted to. Some people say that I'm obsessed with studying you like a book. They say that it's unhealthy, and you are just a guinea pig or point of interest to me, a hobby. It's not like that, they wouldn't recognize love even if they tried. Love... I suppose it's a pretty big word for our situation. You don't know how to love, and I don't believe you fully realize your feelings yet. I don't blame you, not at all. I know your past makes it hard for you.

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I'm often lonely. I don't have lots of friends and you often act like some sociopathic child. You have literally made me cut my wrists open, driven me crazy, but still I haven't given up and I'm not going to. Haha I sound crazy, but maybe I am.