Dear you,
I hope you die soon. I hate to see you like this. I want the old you back, but she isn't there anymore. She is never coming back. When I go see you, you might be there, but you arn't. I want you to die so your long suffering will end.

dear you,

It's hard to believe it's been this long. I have not contacted you, nor have you contacted me. It's quite a feat, quite remarkable indeed. But don't mistake me, I don't miss you. Not even in the slightest. I never, ever believed I would see the day come where I could honestly, with every bit of truth in me, say that I don't miss you. I don't care where you are, so long as you are not near me or my family. I'm merely shocked because this has never happened before. You always come back.

This time, I wished you wouldn't. For the first time, I actually meant it. And you haven't. I am so goddamn grateful. I don't know how I ever loved someone like you - because yes, I know I did. It's the only explanation I can give for the things I put myself through for you. For feeling even slightly guilty about those things we talked about a year ago. (Although I must admit, you were right about that one. Thank you for at least trying to look out for me, in your own strange way.)

I suppose my love isn't all that unconditional after all. In your case, I'm not sorry for it. You certainly weren't deserving of it. I think you finally learned that, in the end. Maybe that's why you're gone now. I'll never know, as with most things concerning you. But for once, finally, I am okay with not knowing.



Zipping Cupid in a body bag well-worn, next to the mausoleum he was born in...

closing your chapter,
me


----

dear you,

It always comes, eventually. Don't be surprised.

Current Mood: apathetic