I don't need saving. I waited for a long, long time for a savior to come, and then, one day...I got tired of waiting.
And I tried to kill myself.
I went the a mental hospital. Twice. And eventually, the whole concept of happiness just stuck. I learned that happiness was a choice, I learned that if you don't decide to be happy, if you don't decide to see the bright side, then you won't.
I learned my lesson in a terrible way, but it was the only way for me to learn.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't have to learn that way. There's a sadness there that I can't touch. There's a sadness there that overwhelms him sometimes, and I hate it. I want to save him. I want him to be happy.
I never got a white knight. No one ever swooped in on a horse to save the day... And I think it's because I'm supposed to do that.
For him. For my love.
Somehow.