“You’ll get sick of me.. everyone does..”, Markus mumbled, sniffing. He didn’t like it, he didn’t like himself, and he really believed no one would ever really stay with him and love him. If only because they got annoyed by his depression.
„Do you really think so? Do you really think i Would’ve come back to you if I was annoyed of you?” He asked then.
“Some day you won’t. You’ll get sick of me, and my problems, and my crying, and my apologizing, and my everything, and you’ll wish there’d be no new flowers on you again, and-”, Markus was so used to people leaving his life, blaming him for everything, hating him for things out of his control.

