tom kaulitz - perdition

I would like to be something more for him. Something important, irreplaceable. To become the person he cares about, even though he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t say that he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t say that I mean nothing to him. But I feel it, I see in his eyes that indifference with which he hurts my heart.

From the very beginning, I knew the rules of this game. I understood perfectly well that this would be a one-way communication. He doesn't need me the way I need him. He doesn't breathe me, he doesn't live by me, he doesn't care about feelings.

And here he is. Standing on my doorstep, covered in bruises and abrasions. He, of course, has no idea about the thoughts that have tormented me since his last disappearance, which have become commonplace. I am just his plaything, and he is my doom. Addiction.

I take a step back, letting him in. Not just into the apartment, but into my heart again. I can't just let him go.

Again, and again, and again.

“Cassie…” Tom whispers, touching my cheek with his rough palm. I am burned by each love over and over again. I cling to him, no longer hoping for real reciprocity, although somewhere in the depths of my soul, wounded by Tom, a meaningless dream glimmers. Deep in my mind, I want Tom to hug me, promise that he will stay, swear that he will be with me, that he needs me. Fool.

Instead, he just removes his hand and pushes me inside the apartment, slamming the door behind him.