Please, don't be Sang-woo and let me be Bum who crawls after you, suffering in my own fantasy, supplied by the meager attention you bother to throw my way. It worries me, how I could find happiness in such torment, that I would sooner mar my innocent hands with the blood you've spilled than have you tell me you've no need of me. Fear and admiration on my part amplifies the value of your vulnerability, making it all the more worthwhile.
I think, I like being hurt.
I think, I like it when you suffocate me.
I think, I like it when I am at your mercy.
I think, I like it when you love me.
Break me, and I will be whole again.
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