This isn’t your boyfriend talking; he’d only speak of love and heart-felt sayings and support. This is your Master speaking, the one that takes it upon himself to harm you when he can’t bear to. If you think you just hurt your body without taking in the consequences of damaging something I consider mine, you’re out of your gourd.

I’m the one that comes out when you need to be hit or hurt, the one that comes out whenever NIN is on the radio, the one that’s strong enough to drive all night without sleep, the one that feels nothing but desire and acts upon the morbid Id that beats in my chest. That’s why that email isn’t full of love, support, or consolation. I wrote it.