What I want to say... in Questions...

What is it that makes you hate me so much?
I’ve seem glimpses of something inside that looks so much like the secrets that hide in my own dark soul, but you make merry and hide it.
You see me as weak, but you don’t know what that so called weakness hides. There’s a strength in me.
Deep rooted. I’ve survived things that no one thought I could.
You see me as someone who doesn’t know what they want, perhaps you’re right.
However I know what I want, although I’ve no idea how to claim it.
We’re alike, you and I. Completely incapable of wanting that which could be easily had.
Maybe that’s what makes you dislike me so. Or the knowledge that there’s a fire in me that once rekindled could burn through anything.
I’m stronger than you’ll ever see. I care greatly for everyone, even those who’ve wronged me.
You see that as weakness, but it’s not.
What have I done that is so unforgivable in your eyes?
A few bite marks are not enough to end a friendship. So what is it?
Are you afraid of me?
Afraid that, maybe, just maybe, I could be something or someone good for you?
I’m shattered inside by the things I’ve seen, been through, and done, but I hold those broken shards together. Quietly pick up the pieces that fall, no matter how raw and cut they leave me.
I would give until there was nothing left to those I care for and think nothing of it.
This giving, even when I should probably take, is my nature.
I don’t know how to take.
I ask so little of anyone because I know it’s they who need, not I.
I lack what you may call the killer instinct, but it’s not for a lack of strength.
Building up others is what I do because I’ve been torn asunder and left to rebuild myself.
Not something I’d ever want for anyone.
Insecure, yes, I am. Having been fooled into believing liars too many times.
I know you’re dark, I get that you’re self destructive. Those things don’t bother me.
I know if you wanted you could hurt me in ways I probably can’t begin to imagine, but you won’t.
Cutting me off doesn’t protect me from you or your darkness.
Cutting me off is you pulling me in.
You said we were friends, don’t tell me you meant it “at the time”.
Saying that only makes you a liar.
Tell me, what are you protecting me from?
I’m not afraid of you, and yet you terrify me, at once.
It’s not fear of you though, it’s for you.
I’d hate to see you play yourself into a loneliness the likes of which you’d never recover from.
So, here it is, I’m your friend. Sex no sex, doesn’t matter.
I talk to you because I want to and I value your counsel. I’m not seeking your approval.
I just miss my friend.
Stop being such a self centered ass and be the friend you said you were.
That’s all I’m asking.

These are the words I can’t find the tongue to speak in front of Ash. Perhaps I should send them in a letter.