she, her, the way she is

She has convinced me that she was my solitude. That I needed nobody when she was around. She's absent all day, but comes to me back at night and makes me tear at the walls in the corners of my mind, and she hurts me, because I have scars in places only she can see. She tells me she hates the rain because she loves the universe and she didn't like it when it cried and I thought that was kind. I love watching her, nothing she ever does makes any sense, because she told me she hates chocolate, but I caught her sneakily eating a bar, I asked her why and she shrugged, telling me that even though she hates it, sometimes, it's the only thing she can find, it's just always there. And I thought that maybe it was a metaphor for me. I don't know why, but she gives me a hard time when she sees me crying, she doesn't comfort me, she just tells me to shut up. but when I caught her crying once, I told her that the universe wouldn't be too happy now, she told me to stop being naive, because the universe didn't love her back and it didn't mind if she cried. Every time she invites me to her 'hideaway' the rooftop, to smoke, I tell her that maybe it isn't the best decision but she rolls her eyes at me and tells me that she doesn't recall ever making a good decision. she, her, the way she is, it makes me sad. She knows all of my dark, and I always think of killing her, but then I wouldn't know where to go. I wish I could understand her, so I could help her. I know that she isn't well, because she gets worse every time I see her. She is fun, but she is wrong. I dont want her around anymore, I want to leave her behind, I want to leave me behind.