I've been giving you your space for weeks now, and you still hadn't improved that last day that I saw you. Your anxiety must be just as deep as my depression... what's prolonging it for you, though? Not seeing you is what's keeping me down. Is it being around those people that's keeping you scared?
For what it's worth, this separation better be helping you. I'm suffering every day so that you will get better. Your welfare is so much more important than I am. For every day that I hate, I hope you've enjoyed it. For every second that I cry, I hope you've laughed. For every time I have to fake a smile, I hope you've held a genuine grin on your pretty face. For every message I leave here, I hope you've read or heard something that warms your heart. For every time our memories taunt me, I hope they've reminded you of better times.
I just don't want you to be killing yourself as much as you've killed me. And I want you to get better soon so that you can save me.