And it isn't that I don't feel alive, because, you see, I do.
When this fear takes hold of me, and I can only stammer and stumble away from you--from where I know you're standing, because hell if we're in the same proximity--it does make me feel alive, in the most basic sense. My heart brutally attacks my ribcage, and it painfully reminds me that you're not here.
I guess I miss you, in a twisted way.
It does make sense though. You constantly chased me. You were the threat of my being.
Isn't that why you've stopped my breathing?