| Dear You, I won't use this as a way for redemption. Because I am undeserving of such. I will however use this as a way to get in my last bit of bitching that I have come to be so undeserving of. To all those people who told me they loved me and told me they cared, to all those people that had me fooled into thinking that I was going to be ok, fuck you. Fuck you all. For making me feel cherished, when it was all just a joke to you. For suckering me into believing something that I thought for so long I could finally obtain, and then have it all be a lie. To all those people who made me cry myself to sleep, to all those people that filtered into my mind no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. Fuck you. Fuck you all. Didn't you ever see the stress that collapsed my insides? Or were you too fucking self-centered to notice? Not that I'm one to talk. I realize how selfish I have been my life, however long I've made it. How many times I did the stupidest most desperate things to make people care and to get affection that was not rightfully mine. Why couldn't you people just let me have something? Why couldn't I get love and companionship and easy times and the things that I wanted? Sure, I got my material. But I never got the things that I truly wanted. And no this is no reason for what I am about to do, and will have done upon the time your eyes follow these words. With a tear in them? No. With anger, most likely. Fuck me being selfish. I had the right, didn't? And yet, there were times when I didn't believe that I was truly and holy selfish. There were those times when I took your pain, and yours too, and kept them for myself. Those times when I sat and listened and comforted and cared, and never said anything about wanting something back. Because it scared me. To imagine your reaction when I told you what I wanted. The digust and the pity at my stupidity for thinking I could have anything good in my life. All those people who told me that good would come if I waited for a little bit. What happened? I waited as long as I could, and all I can think of now are the bad things that happened to me. All those times when I wanted someone and was forced to be alone. When I just craved the companionship of an ear to listen and a mouth to lend me comforting, if false, words. I'm making this long, because inside I am scared. But throughout my whole life, I'm sure you're tired of hearing me. Of seeing me. And I guess by the end of this I can remedy it. I've felt so much pain being here. So much, haunting, hurting, hellish pain. Was I so bad that I had to be punished like this? I just wanted some good. I just wanted... Well I guess those desires are going to be dead and gone soon enough. I wish I could have kissed you. I wish I could have hugged you. I wish I could have told you how much I care. You may not know who each one of you is. But that's ok. And...enough with this. Does it fix anything...if I say I'm sorry? From, Me The End |
| The End Letter by: V |