Blame swallowed the dying flame of my vanquished heart.
It was your fault.
You're to blame, he did nothing wrong.
Sorrow turned to rage as I slammed against the walls of my mind once more.
...
That night I had sent a message to the one man I thought could help, when none of my other friends could.
And he did. Although he was my ex, whom I have hurt so deeply in the past, he had not lost one drop of care. He cared so deeply, and still does, that my heart sunk to my stomach as I remembered how I left him. Even if it was more than a year and a half ago, it still pained me to think about the messages I sent, ignoring his replies entirely.
Had I not sought out help then, I would be watching over him from a different place.
It was as tough I had felt the sun on my skin for the first time in my lowly existence.