It was my little game.

"At my worst, I was a pathetic excuse for a human being. I wanted destruction. Not only self destruction but I wanted to pull people down with me. I wanted them to be pathetically in love with me; to want me to a point where they bleed despair. To let me hurt them, just to prove how crazy they are for me. To crawl on their knees in front of me, and let me slay them for the sake of our endless existence. To be my muse. To kill my boredom. Someone whose sorrow makes me smile. I wanted someone to persist nonstop, until they mentally rot. I didn’t want to push them away, for I want to pull myself away, instead. I wanted to be so cruel that it was attractive. Sickly attractive. I wanted someone to tell me I look pretty when I’m hollow. I wanted to be what someone would kill to touch. I wanted someone to ache, like I ached. I want someone to feel like I felt. I wanted to hurt someone, just to see past glimpses of myself. I wanted to break someone, just to mend them. I wanted to be the only one that can make it better. It was my little game. And I wanted everyone to play."