I looked at you and saw myself. The pain, the despair, the wounded psyche. Your perseverance through it all. I watched you struggle and I struggled with you. I heard you cry and I cried with you. I felt your heart bleeding, drowning underneath the crushing weight of life which was closing in on your soul, and I bled with you. You ached, with passion and ferocity, for something new, something better, something more, more than this, and I hungered along side you. I watched you try, and try, and fail, then try again, until at last you fell so low that you were certain you might never rise again. And in that moment, I saw all of the darkness inside of myself reflected in your gaze, in you, and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could never save you. But I could save myself. I needed to save myself. So I did.
I looked at you and saw myself. Yet it took losing you to truly see myself.