Second

 Hey hottie, 

I miss you so much. And I hate you for it. Hate that I love you so much that I didn't leave any love for myself. Everything is you. Everyone's you. I spent half of my life telling my friends what's important for me. And now that they're convinced and complying I'm suddenly left ignoring them because I don't want them advocating for you. Or for this breakup. It stings. Every morning. Every night. I haven't been sleeping well ever since I heard you that day. Ever since I heard myself talking to you like that. Feels like my life's done. There aren't any more goals. Any goals. Maybe you knew this was happening. Maybe that's what made you so sure that I'll perish without you. You took good care of me all these years. More like tolerated me well. My soft place to fall. I gave you all my controls. I was happy like that. In your hands. And in your arms. 

Now I don't know what the fuck to do. I'm not able to bring myself to leave this place which was so cold to me. Colder than you ever could be. I requested my commanding officer to let me stay for some more time. But this is as far as he can push it. Fuck!

The Delhi monster is waiting to swallow me whole. I think it already has. But now I don't have a ground to stand on. To fight. I think I'm going to let it swallow me. For what I did to us, my indecision my insecurities. And my priorities. 

I can't understand when it happened. When did you, you hottie, take a second place on my list. I guess it was when I had to chose between you and living. 

For whatever it's worth hottie, I am living by little like a zombie now. I found in you a soft place to fall and hit a concrete. Everything's blurred, I can't find my way without you. yet I can't live with that concrete either. Call it masochism. Or me a sucker for you. But I love you. And I hate it.