Thought this was a story that needed both sides, and seeing how exceedingly and natural it feels to write this, I thought 'why not'? Only fair.

I don't know what you expected of me.

Your idealism will be the death of you. Your rose-colored glasses will blind you to the truth. Whatever you saw in me is only a highlight reel in a life full of ugly scraps left on the cutting room floor. You only have the privilege of seeing my best, and when you find me at my worst, you have the nerve to balk?

That burns the worst, because you were supposed to be different from that.

You are- were, really, my closest friends. I thought you'd be there for me no matter what. I thought when you said you loved who I was you kept in mind that I was most certainly nowhere near the perfect human being you thought I was.

Around you, though, I was at my best. I only needed to show you much. You were different; you said too much. You made it perfectly clear that you were nowhere near perfect. I knew your flaws. I acknowledged your mistakes. I loved you anyways.

I trusted you. Did you ever notice that?

That's what friends do.

You and I were always similar. We dressed the same, thought the same, were artistically the same. You showed me beautiful things within myself I had never discovered. You made me feel incredible. You were incredible.

Now you've just gutted me.

Did you ever think that maybe it was you who let go?

Have we forgotten about the endless days we've spent with each other, inspiring one another, changing one another's lives only through the power of words and actions? Have you abandoned that? Have you abandoned me?

You were supposed to be there for me.

Why must you feel a need to take on everyone's burden, including those who you don't even really know the way I do? You don't know anything. Why are you so naive that you will fall for anything for the sake of helping those who don't need it? Oh, poor Atlas, your burden will make you fall one day, and everyone else will fall with you.

Let go.

I saw you come up towards me, looking as if you've seen a ghost. I knew you knew things I didn't want to know. I knew you wanted me to tell you. You weren't looking at me the way you used to. That look of understanding, patience, love. No, you were looking over me, analyzing my flaws and all that you thought that I wasn't.

I may have looked different. I may have been different. I was different, but so were you. In that moment, I felt your naivete drop, leaving only a judgmental glance as you finally saw me for who I was.

I couldn't stay another moment.

I should have known what I was doing. Of course you'd trudge down, wounded pride and all, and ask for the truth. I should have known that other people would tell you my flaws, my secrets, out of resentment and hurt. I should have known that you would have fallen for it.

I don't see you around as much as before. I know that you're angry at me, but for what? The exact same thing you said wouldn't stop you from being there for me? You promised, and you went back on that. No matter what your reasoning, you are a liar.

But that's okay. You're just a human. You're as flawed as I am.

I just wish you knew that even now, you're no better. You're still the same as me.

The person behind the mirror may be gone, but his blue reflection remains.

Sometimes, when someone leaves a story out for others to read, they automatically side with the immediate protagonist. I wrote this to challenge that belief. Sometimes it's not that easy.

I hope this chapter will satisfy you and put those pieces together.