Do you remember when we first met? I had been beaten by the neighborhood kids, and you had run out after being hit by your parents. We ran into each other on the alleyway stairs. Both of us were covered in tears, yet we comforted one another. I suppose we saw ourselves in each other.

Since then, I became your parent and you became my friend—a salvation. Yet, I was the reason you got hit by the kids, and you were the reason I was hated by my parents—a grudge. By the time I had known you for five years, I hated you. Like a paper boat that floats well at first only to sink, you made me happy only to make me miserable.

But funnily enough, as we grew up, you were the only one left. Now, I think we've developed that kind of love-hate bond where we feel like one. Sadly, to those around us, it looks like we're sinking to the bottom. They talk about us being ruined, being in hell, or needing salvation. They talk without knowing a thing. Well... what if it is salvation, as long as I love you?