Ah, so this is what @thelonelyfog was talking about when he said that sometimes people will just absolutely peek into your brain and call you out. Because this person is completely right.
No, I never wanted to die. But I absolutely felt like I deserved to. And I absolutely accepted it every time my death seemingly approached.
During the Prentiss attack, when Martin and I heard the banging on the wall, I was sure that was it. When Nikola kidnapped me, when Micheal came to kill me himself, I wasn't expecting to walk out the other side of that door. I followed Tim into the oblivion that was the Circus, knowing it would most likely kill me. The Apocalypse happened, and I thought "Yep, this is most definitely my fault, because I'm not dead yet"
I think I kind of knew, in a way, that I would end up dying to fix it. Taking Martin down with me was an unpleasant surprise. And honestly, it's still somewhat baffling to me that he was willing to sit there and die with me. Because he loved me that much, and I loved him. And now I'm Somewhere Else, and I can only hope he is too.
I hope he's here with me. I want to be able to find him. That's something I've been worrying about, because what if who I am now isn't the same as the me he fell in love with? What if I'm just too different now and he doesn't like me? It's an absurd train of thought, really. He was literally willing to walk through the Apocalypse to certain death with me, and he did it because he loved me, and something as simple as a reincarnation of sorts isn't going to change that. Maybe the love will be a different kind, but it'll be there.
