All my life, especially back in college, I used to hear one thing from people.

That I was crazy.

That I was sick in the head.

That I needed to get help -- but in the most mocking way that only must've meant that taking help wasn't the most acceptable thing.

And there had been times when I had almost begun questioning my own sanity. Spending hours and days lifelessly, isolated in my cramped-up room, while staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering where it all went wrong. Wondering why I was the way I was, and why nobody could like me. If there was one thing I had directed all my energy towards was for people to like me, to appreciate me, to fill the void of emotional unavailability inside of me. Yet, all I received, in the end, was resentment, ignorance, being taken advantage of, and tossed away once I no longer fulfilled their purpose.

And all that was until Edward appeared in my life, painting me as a portrait, I never saw in the mirror. He showed me what I thought I wasn't, and gave me the sense of self-worth I used to search in others.

But, he felt like those broken pieces that filled all my cracks, only to let go and leave me broken again, as if reinventing our love like time, just for it to last forever. It gave him purpose -- breaking me apart and fixing me, time and again. And the contrastive feeling of relief after being hurt, was what I had fallen in love with. I didn't think how soothing being fixed was, unless I was broken by him again.

The guy who I loved more than myself and most probably lost myself to, was the one thinking I was crazy to do that. Perhaps he was right, and perhaps I was.

And perhaps it wasn't the feeling of being understood as crazy, that was more hurting, but the realisation that it could be true.

Was this moment any different from the past? Perhaps yes. But even if it wasn't the same, it was equally hurting to know what Edward now supposed about me.

And these moments felt like a pattern of events, one after another, repeating every single time, except that to break free from this pattern only meant to break free of myself. And that was when I knew what I had to do. Sometimes this too shall pass only meant after I was going to.

My glazed eyes scanned the laptop screen again, back and forth, making sure I was not making this up. But it was all real, the words as evident as the hurting feelings in my chest. The bold letters that depicted the words, delusional disorder, felt like being rubbed and screamed at my face, reminding me of my new image.

I honestly wasn't even aware of what it meant, or what delusional disorder was related to, but the name of it only fueled my worst of fears -- that it was relevant to something psychotic -- and that maybe Edward might've thought I was delusional and making things up. It seemed like something Hayden in college would say to me, just to trigger out some kind of vulnerable emotion, to please his narcissistic personality.

The eerie silence was then broken by a distant shuffling sound across the room entrance, followed by the familiar words I once ached to hear, but now dreaded. I couldn't even bring myself to look up to him anymore. "Michelle..."

I kept harshly wiping my moist eyes, keeping a firm hold of his laptop, not wanting to let go of it easily this time.

"I guess you would've found out one way or another," I heard him frustratingly call out, as started to pace in my room, not meeting my eyes.

I slowly turned towards him and brought myself to look up at him, my gaze still teary. "You..." I let out a shuddering breath, trying to catch my words. "You think I'm crazy..."

"It's not what you think it is!" His wide eyes met mine, his hoarse voice was thick and loud, and as usual, he looked like he expected me to understand him. He moved towards me to take the laptop but I didn't let him, shoving it to myself. "Michelle-" He warned.

"Answer me..." I struggled to yell, but my voice cracked nonetheless. I felt my eyes sting again, the tears emerging and sliding against my heated skin. "Edward... Why..." My thick voice came off as a small whisper. At this point, I didn't even know why I was crying, the sobs just escaped like the drizzle indicating the beforehand of a storm.

"Michelle, please." I saw him run his hands through his hair in tiredness, closing his eyes to breathe, and then opening them again, looking more frustrated than I ever saw him be. "Yes... I thought you were suffering from delusional disorder. But that doesn't make you a crazy person."

I sat paralysed in my position, an avalanche of emotions gliding through my being, making me want to break down and collapse. Edward was serious about thinking I was mentally unstable. "It literally says that I'm psychotic," I very slowly spoke, emphasising every syllable of the word.

"It's a disorder, and you're not psychotic. You love me, you can't be crazy. I know too well how it could've happened. But that does not make you crazy," He silently answered, his stare never leaving mine. "I was trying to help you because I know what you've been through. I love you, Michelle, that's the only reason why,"

The pleading, the desperation, the exasperation in his being, told me this wasn't him. His mind appeared to be corrupted by Hannah, and her evil tricks.

"Are you sure about this... I mean this can't be true right..." I hated that my voice was coming off as more pleading rather than assertive but I couldn't help myself anymore.

"I asked you to get therapy so we could be sure but you declined," He whispered, giving me an almost beseeching stare. I turned myself away from him, inhaling a sharp breath at the thought of him having the fixed belief that I was crazy. I bit my lip to stop gasping for deep breaths, and to stop the leaking tears but they didn't.

"Please look at me," I heard him speak again, but I didn't oblige, instead burying my face in my arms and wrapping them around my body. "I'm not assuming any of this... Please,"

Seconds turn to minutes, and I felt the bed sink with the weight of him, as he accompanied me. The tears hadn't stopped, but I unwrapped myself from my slouched position, turning to look at him. "Edward, please... You need to understand this... That Hannah is trying to get into your head. She's framing me to be crazy. Why don't you understand that?" I gasped between my shaky breathing. "Why can't anyone just believe me for once..."

His sapphire eyes met mine, taking in my words, and he broke the gaze. "I believe everything you said, Michelle, I do and probably I'd be the only one who would." He shook his head to himself, looking like he wanted to speak more but didn't. Instead, he just neared me, trying to take my hand in his but I instantly retracted.

"But then why this?" I pointed at the laptop. "What are you trying to prove and to whom? Why do you think I'm crazy!?" I was really losing it this time. I just wanted to speak about anything that would cause him to hurt and to regret ever listening to Hannah.

Edward's face portrayed that of disappointment, pain sinking in his painfully blue eyes. He took a long drag of breath and neared me. "I am not going to tell anyone about this. And you're not crazy, you're nothing close to that," He forced out the words. I let out a loud disbelieving scoff, looking at him with extreme hate. "I was once diagnosed with OCD before, but I managed it. Do you think that makes me a crazy person?"

I didn't even know what made up disorders or psychological illnesses he was talking about, but him being delusional to think I was delusional, was crazy for me. Hayden told me, he was obsessive, but I knew it wasn't any of that. If anything, I knew for a fact that all of these were just made-up illnesses and conditions, that never existed. All Edward ever did was love, and to label it anything psychologically crazy was just crazier. Except that he was just being controlled by Hannah and he was helpless.

"Tell me." He snapped me out of my trance, and I looked back at him. "Am I crazy?"

"You're not. I know you love me so much. But please know that I love you the same way, Edward. Please don't let Hannah get in between us," I nearly pleaded. "I'm not making anything up, I'm not delusional. You admitted everything before when I first told them to you. You confessed all your mistakes... And that was all before Hannah came over and tried to control your mind into thinking I'm the one who's psychotic,"

He stared at me as if at a loss for words, but moments later, he started. "Yes. Yes, I admitted all the wrong things I had done." He breathed heavily, looking anywhere but at me. "You're right, I need to stop believing Hannah..."

"I know you're doing all this because she must be listening to us from our phones. I understand Edward, she's a threat to this relationship, always was and always will be,"

"Okay, you're right," He answered blankly, staring at the laptop in my hand. "Can I have that back now?"

I held his gaze for an instant, searching for some foreignness in them but the calmness in his blue irises clouded everything else. "No,"

"Just listen to me for once!" He slightly raised his voice from whispering, and I was almost sure Mum was able to eavesdrop from downstairs, about our outbursting encounter. Edward grabbed the laptop from my grip, and I snatched it back from him, not wanting to let go just yet.

"I want to see what else you are hiding in there from me... Every time I look into your phone or laptop, I'm revealed by something new. Why Edward? I want to see everything now!" I harshly snapped, but instantly regretted being so mean.

"Because I don't want to let go of you! I can't..." He shook his head, looking manic.

Without putting much thought, I reopened the laptop, trying to quickly get access. But before I could get to the other folders and files in there, Edward retracted the device from me harshly. He shut off the lid, and stood up, placing the hot device above the bookshelves in a corner.

He turned back to me to begin his list of excuses for Hannah, but I silenced him by shooting him a disgusted stare, filled with hatred. "We are done," I announced, anger taking over my being as I shook my head to myself, not wanting to look at his face anymore.

Edward ran his fingers across his dark golden hair, which looked messier from constant pulling. His cheeks were flushed, and sheer disappointment reflected on every feature of his face. "No, you can't leave me like that," He very calmly said.

"Fuck this marriage, and fuck this relationship," I cussed, very infuriated with him at that point and my anger surprised Edward as well as myself. "Why don't you go and waste your time with her? Why even are you with me? You are obsessed with her!"

I saw the hurt flash on his flushed face, his forehead creasing into a frown. His expression transformed cold and firm, and his jaw clenched in anger. I got off the bed in one swift manner, my anger rising beyond my control and I harshly slid the drawer of my nightstand, raking through the messy assortment of possessions I had of Edward. Finally, my fingers got hold of the letter he once gave me, and I took it out, staring at it. He, on the other hand, sat frozen on my bed as he noticed my every move in silence, his observant gaze never leaving me. I snatched my lighter from the nightstand and I flicked it on. The yellow flame appeared on the first click, and I neared it to the letter, the paper crumbling as soon as it caught the fire, and blackening from the corner. I looked at him, waiting for him to react or anything but he didn't, instead calmly looking at me with the plainest of expressions.

It only fueled my angriness about how I couldn't hurt him, on how he was so nonchalant and unfazed about everything.

Maybe he was the one who was making me go crazy.

I let go of the ashes falling on the floor, the flame subsiding right as the paper disappeared as if it was alive only because of it.

Feeling raged and exhausted, I marched towards the door, yanking the door open with the handle but I was stopped by Edward's fingers circling my wrist. He slowly closed the door behind him, locking it from inside. "Just listen to me," He slowly said, his eyes never leaving mine.

Fury was soon replaced by horror inside me as I looked at his fingers around my wrist and then back to him. "Let me go, or else this won't end well," I warned.

Edward's blank expression still didn't waver, and he pulled me closer. "I am not going to hurt you, I promise," He told me, his voice all of a sudden, sincere, noticing my helpless expression.

"Let me go or else..." I threatened, glaring right at him, yet a fraction of my expression held fright rather than anger.

"Or else what?" He pushed.

I pulled my hand from his grip, grabbing the lighter again and flicking it on, bringing it close to my skin. "Or else... I will hurt myself," I knew I had finally touched the right spot, considering the mortified look on his face. It satisfied me, knowing I was at last, having the same effect on him that he had on me.

"No... No." He shook his head, refusing to look at me anymore. "You can't... Michelle, are you crazy?"

"Why not?" I fired back. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Don't do it." His jaw clenched but I didn't oblige, slowly shaking my head at him and he instantly blurted again. "Mum did the same thing and I was unable to stop her,"

I was taken aback by the revelation, not knowing whether I should believe it or not. The shock itself, made me drop the lighter on the floor, as I backed away a little from it. The guy I had loved so much, and in the eyes that I only saw desperation and affection, was now replaced with misery and pain.

His melancholic eyes gleamed with wetness, and he looked at me with desperation, the traumatic dream I had of him, flashing before my eyes at the very instant. Except that this time, I wasn't scared. I slowly fell my hands through my back pockets, trying to feel my phone, but couldn't, and finally realised that Edward had it, just like he had everything. He very slowly made his way towards me through the room, while I simply gaped at him, wide-eyed. His low footsteps echoed through the small space of the room, as he neared me, his blue orbs, strikingly sad.

This time, I waited. I didn't resist and I waited for him to jab the whatever metaphorical dagger -- I had seen from the dream -- inside of me. And I closed my eyes. Finally, the sharp piercing pain followed, not because he had stabbed me, but instead, cutting away the lifelessness of the situation.

He pulled me into a deep kiss.

We plopped onto the bed, and I moulded my lips against his, massaging my fingers in his hair, as my automatic response to his action.

If there was one thing I loved about him, was that no matter what I did, he would never leave me.

Even if people like Hannah threatened him.

Even if I doubted him, and accused him of doing wrong.

Even if Mum didn't agree to our plans.

Even if I didn't listen to him.

Even if I cheated on him.

Even if I betrayed him.

Even if I didn't love him anymore.

Edward never complained. There were never any consequences to how I acted towards him. And that was when I thought I had finally figured him out. His love for me was unconditional. He didn't just love the good parts about me. He loved me as a whole, the good and the bad things and embraced them. He made me feel loved like no other.

Pulling away breathlessly from him, I looked at him with desperation, and his face reflected the same before he placed his lips on me again.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." Edward breathed in my hair, as he inhaled my scent, and held my arms protectively. "You think I'll hurt you... But all this time, I've been the one who had been there for you. I was the only one who was trying to protect you from everything. And in the end... You still wanted to leave me... I can't let you do that." He locked his fingers in mine, kissing my knuckles gently.

"Edward..." I started, not even knowing what to say anymore. Yes, it was true, that I had never felt so much love from anyone more than I did from him, and letting go of him was always harder than I had anticipated. Leaving him would almost kill me whenever I tried to, and it didn't even seem like a merely good option for me anymore.

"I will love you no matter what happens. No matter what you do, or what mistakes you make." He seemed to have voiced my thoughts, his starry eyes gazing at me. "I will never just judge you through the lens of a single perspective. I know what you did and why you did it. But that doesn't matter, because I love you and for me, that's enough,"

"But what if I wanted to leave?" I very bravely asked, scanning his face. He looked away for a bit, and then wrapped his arms around me, constantly kissing my hair and my neck, but not replying. I couldn't make out his expression, but his gestures were enough to tell me, he didn't want to hear that.

"Edward?" I finally mustered up the courage about the one thing that had been nagging me in the back of my mind. I was sprawled across his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as I called out his name.

"Hmm?"

"Please... If you don't want me to leave then I want to know what else was there that you're hiding from me..." I asked in a very small voice. I felt his muscles tense against mine, which only confirmed that there might be more to what I already knew.

"What do you want to know about?" He sighed in a whisper.

"Starting from some of those videos on your phone. The ones that were locked. Can I see them?" I shifted a little, to make out his face but he remained composed.

"Whatever is in there, I did it because I loved you, Michelle. I love you okay?"

"Edward but I want to know what is in there." My suspicions begun weighing down on me again.

"Okay... Okay, I'll show you. But you won't leave me after seeing any of that okay? You've promised me that," He rasped.

"I won't,"

I climbed off of him and onto the mattress, looking at him with curious eyes. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, slight nervousness evident in his features. Unlocking the phone, I saw him type in his password before silently handing it to me.