Doubt • Twenty One Pilots

“Don’t forget about me,”
she muttered as she looked over at you, with her big pupils. “Don’t say stupid stuff like that,”
you said as you lay on the bed, in the opposite direction from her. Your bodies formed a diagonal line across the mattress, your heads building the connection point. “But I mean it,”
she said, eyes drifting back up to the ceiling
“One day, that shit is gonna kill me. Or we’ll lose contact because one of us gets forced into rehab… or I’ll get so lost in it that I’ll lose my minds.”

She was right. Probably. Maybe it would even be better that way, if one of you could finally break free, but you didn’t want that, not in the slightest. There was nothing that could ever make you want to break free, something you couldn’t see ever ending. Even when you doubted her, you were no good without her. You didn’t know when it happened, not really. But as the temperatures inside you slowly started dropping, you had slipped. And just as it happened, you met her. She drowned you deeper and deeper, or maybe you drowned her. Either way, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was losing that fear, the one you had both bonded over. Oh, that fear… It was your worst enemy. You did everything to forget it, and that might be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what exactly you were scared of. It was just… anything. Everything.
You were scared of responsibilities you didn’t even have yet—immaturity. Of disappearing without ever doing something good—uncertainty. Of what lived inside of you—your own image. Of never getting out again, and now… now also of losing her.

“You’re all I’ve got… I’d always lose my mind with you,”
you said quietly, sadly, actually meaning it. She scoffed slightly and turned her head back to you. Your lips were now perfectly aligned with hers, it would be so easy to just… It wouldn’t be the first time. You weren’t sure what you both were, and that was just another thing you were scared of. “We’re toxic,”
she whispered.