Cycle

I don't blame you for choosing her, with her generically good looks and a neurotically unstable slew of issues, the reasons she gives to have you chase her to save her. How convenient that she can force you to live inside her pocket by claiming she's just so anxious when talking to you and how she must spend literal weeks preparing for ten minutes on a video chat with you. How can you fault her for suddenly being too timid after months of attention she doled out until you were hooked beyond all reason? You're a carp for the harpy, dangling on her golden hook.

I don't blame you for being the sweet boy you are who believes she's sweetness and innocence and beauty. How does a sheep see wolves when they only come out at night and disappear as quickly as they arrive? So fast that you only see they visited in the morning when the barest scraps remain littered on the ground for you to find and pick the bones of?

I don't blame you for going through heartache that no one can save you from; it is such a common experience that most have encountered, and it's now your turn. The girl on the internet, her colors filled in by your imagination, her lack of interest unnoticed, her life being lived vibrantly in another country, unbothered by the way she keeps you there to give her attention when she wants it. She drew you in, gave you everything you needed to become addicted, pulled it all away, and fed her addiction through yours.

It's such a horrible cycle designed to waste years of your life for nothing but an occasional dopamine hit, and I can't blame you because no one can blame the addict.