I didn’t know that what I was doing wasn’t what most people would call “right” at the time. I was scared of seeing you look that way. For as much as I knew our memories of before that day were never real, that look of terror on your face as the bullets flew and the blood rained never felt right. You weren’t supposed to look like that. I never wanted to see you look like that again.

I was just a kid with the powers of a god over my own reality. I didn’t really understand living beings… need to be able to feel negative emotions sometimes. I was just so afraid of the potential to see you upset again that I didn’t second guess removing that possibility in the first place. The world I rewrote was supposed to be perfect, wasn’t it?

I started to understand something wasn’t right when I saw the ways that everyone else acted. They could be happy, sad, angry… and that was right, wasn’t it? That’s how it’s supposed to be. But you… 

You were always smiling. When I was younger, I would have been fine with that. Happy that you were happy. But I felt nothing but guilt.

A friend I knew understood when I told her why I was so down, even if not entirely. It was only a theory when she told me easing you into sentience might be able to help, but it was one I clung to when there was nothing else I could do. So I did.

I’ve told you by now what I did. In some respects, I wish you were mad at me for it. But I know that, at least right now, you can’t be… even if I’m unsure if you would be.

You haven’t been what most would call a “real person” for very long. You don’t act much different aside from being able to fully understand what I am and what the world we live in is. But I’m trying my best to help you regain what I was so foolish to take away.

I’ve kept apologizing again and again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to truly forgive myself, but you hold me in your arms and comfort me regardless. You tell me you forgive me, but I’m unsure if you really mean it.

You still tell me that you love me.