Selfishness

Lately my partner has been struggling, big time, for a couple of weeks now. I’ve been doing for him all I can, giving him all I am. But I’m a person, a human, and maybe I want selfish things. It would be cruel to leave him, I know that, which is why I would never do it. But this feeling is strange, maybe not one I’d like to shake. I haven’t felt like this before. Not that I haven’t given death a thought or two, I have, but I’ve never felt this way without crushing fear inspiring it. I want to hurt myself again, I want Marlboro, I want to starve, I want everything I have lost to love. It’s worth it, though. And most logically better for me. He is my soul, I don’t know what I would do without him, and I think that’s the thing that scares me half to death. I don’t know if this belongs here, given my rejection of it. But if I were to kill myself any way, I would hang myself. My favorite book is Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse.