I left because of you. There I said it.

I told you it was me and that the creaking trees spoke to me in voices louder than whispers.

But it was you.

I pined and groveled at your feet as if you held them to the ground,

Winding your steady roots around my ankles and keeping me from floating off in a manic fit of lucid rage.

But those roots clung more like anchors dragging me downwards towards a deep sea neither of us could fathom.

Because you loved her.

Now, you kept her on the ground, we all saw that much.

You groveled for her, whining and pining like a dog who couldn't bear to see his owner suffer

Well, her scars became you scars and with each new pain inflicted on her wrists you pulled a little harder on my ankles.

I thought that was love. I thought that maybe in some alternate DC or Marvel Universe the superhero I was waiting for might just show up in you. Maybe I was your rock and for once, just once, in my whole damned life I could be the roots holding you down. But I was wrong. Way wrong.

I held your feet and you held mine as we somersaulted down towards a deep sea cavern filled with fear and loathing. She hated me, I hated it, you hated pain, and this triangle held everything except love. So I left.

You wanted happiness. That is something I could never hold too close to my heart for fear of losing it, but that was all you ever needed. She was broken. She gave you something to fix because she couldn't do it and for some reason I wasn't broken enough.

But I was too broken for happiness.

Too broken for you.

And I left. To give you her, to ease the pain.

I cut the roots holding me down and realized I wouldn't float away. I would never float away.

So now your hands are free to anchor her to the shore, and I hope that's where they stay. I hope you find happiness in the rubble that I left.

Because I'm happy.

But I just had to say, it wasn't me, it was you.