You are my greatest sin. Don’t you know that? You are something that I shouldn’t want for myself but I have allowed myself to have. You are not an accident nor a forced part of my being but something I have carved a space in my heart for. You are something made out of a selfish desire to have the company and love that I’ve longed for.

You are a privilege I made for myself. The bond which keeps us is not brought by fate or by anyone’s will but it is I who made a path where everything could flow, even uphill. Even there where I have placed myself. Away. Away from people’s questions and concern.

You are my privilege. A privilege I alone allowed and I alone could take away.

And now I’m taking you away from me.

With you, I have felt what loving and being loved means. I felt what true friendship means. I felt what it means to fight with someone by my side and to fight without looking at my back all the time. Yet, as Valentine Morgenstern said, To love is to destroy and that to be loved, is to be the one destroyed.” And I can see by the way your eyes mirrored my pain as I turn my back slowly from you that I have started to destroy you by making you love and trust me, by  even  making you believe that there can be beauty in  someone so broken as me — me who’s cursed to be alone and to bear this burden alone.

You are my privilege as you are my sin. The only sin I would want to commit over and over, no matter the consequences. But now, let me severe the bond I have created and let me set you free of me. Let me cleanse myself of the sin that is you. And when you see me walk away from you, never think that it was your fault. It is mine. It had always been mine.

So let me entreat you to leave me
And return from following after me
For you cannot go where I will go
You cannot be where I should be
My sins are not your sins
My sorrows, not your sorrows
For I will suffer where I should suffer

and there, alone, would I be chained
The angel do these to me, and more so,
Until death may finally take you away from me

To Cassie Clare, thank you for William Herondale.
To the few who have become my James Carstairs, my own version of parabatai,
 thank you and I'm sorry.