Fire is all that comes to mind as I type, and retype my words. The angry fire that is within, the feeling of being burned by you, the slow destruction of something once so dear, the rebirth of ashes. All of it becomes a metaphor of fire. Even you. Passionate and bright, beautiful and dangerous…all of you seems like a fire. Did I get too close? Like Icarus did my wings burn and crash me to the ground? And no matter the darkness of the oceans I plummet to, my anger will not be quenched. It smolders inside me but does nothing to warm the empty space you burned out within. And the destruction was so slow…so horribly slow. When I realized what was happening it was too late to salvage any kindness we once had towards each other. And on and on you burn. Taking fuel from those that surround you, you consume them, destroy them. And I had such hope. I wanted so very much to believe that you really wished to start things anew. I wanted desperately to create a new bond from the ashes of the old. But you will not lay the embers to rest. The coals glow inside you, festering and craving the need for more fuel. Make no mistake, I pity you not. I fear for what you are becoming. Continuing as you are you will push your friends from your side, consume all the kindness they've given you and will leave you in ashes until at last you drop exhausted and burned out. When you're destroyed the bonds with everyone around you, who then will you turn to? Already they tell me that I am a fool to try to be there for you. Already they tell me of how they find reasons to avoid you. I told them you didn't deserve to be shunned. I told them that I would be there for you since you asked for it. I stood up to them and defended you. Will you now destroy me too? I live by an old saying: Burn me once shame on you, burn me twice…shame on me…