You were mid-war against the dark when I met you. Despite all the light I saw in you, I only brought out the worst. You possessed the strength and will to find the safe ground between the dark and light. I did to you what I do to everyone who gets too close.
I aimed to be good, but the light bored me. The dark was exciting and I could control it. While others were consumed by the power that came with the dark, I ignored that lust. I could because instead of walling the light inside off from myself, I only hid it from others.
Bending the dark as I wished carried its price. I didn’t let the power fuel a rage to keep me going. I had to find my own way to not slip into the black hole. I’d pull someone close and introduce them to the dark. Things only decay in the dark, and I thrived on that pain.
You were different. You already knew the dark and loved it. We had fun with that but you lost the war.
I regret all of it: you, me, what we did. You meant the world to me. I should have protected you from me. This is all my fault and now I pay the price.