How much you hurt me. I want you to feel that pain. To be alone. In agony. To have no one to talk to. To feel hopeless. To stop caring. Stop trying.
I could slit your throat but that wouldn’t be enough.
I thought I was over this. But no, that’s a lie. I always knew that I wasn’t. Might never be.
I hope I will be.
You left me. Alone. In the woods. Crying every night, making myself sick over and over again, chain smoking. Hoping for cancer. Hoping that some how I would just die. Maybe I’d get in a car accident. It wouldn’t be so bad if I just lost control of my car and drove over the edge, careening to my death.
I needed you. You said it was my fault. Said I ruined your life. How? By trying to save you? By telling the truth? No. I didn’t ruin anything.
You ruined me. I will never trust anyone the way I trusted you. All those years.
Tell me, who was it that was there for you when your world was falling apart? When you had no hope left? Who was it that came to your rescue when you had no friends? When no one wanted to be with you and everyone was just annoyed with your existence?
Have you forgotten all those years I spent helping you? All those great times we went out, sneaking through the field to look at the moon at night. Our trips downtown to be silly and go thrifting?
Did none of that mean anything to you?
You told me once that you knew. Knew we would be friends forever. You wanted me to be your Maid of Honor at your wedding.
I knew you were right. Knew you were serious. With all your flaws, all the times I dealt with your craziness, I still wanted to be with you.
But then, when I needed you most… You disappeared. Dropped off the map. Left me alone to pick up the pieces- the pieces that I couldn’t lift.
You weren’t there. And I killed myself. I committed suicide. Because YOU WEREN’T THERE.
Do you understand that? Maybe. Maybe you do. But you don’t know about that.
Sometimes I just want to drive to your house, break down the door and yell at you,
YOU LEFT ME AND NOW I’M BROKEN. IRREPARABLE. FINISHED. I WANTED TO DIE. I WAS FULLY PREPARED TO DIE, AND YOU DON’T KNOW.
You just keep living your life. Nothing is wrong, it’s all peachy keen for you, isn’t it? A future ahead of you, college, good grades, relationships….
Not for me.
I can’t love. I have never been in love and I don’t know if I ever will be. When you left me… I never thought it would be forever. I thought it would be something that we would both get over, and eventually we’d repair our friendship.
That didn’t happen, isn’t happening.
I want you to feel pain.
This is where my sociopathic tendencies come in. The reason I’m so goddamn violent.
I want to rip you to shreds. Kill everything you love in front of you. But not kill you. Oh no. You should want to kill yourself. Wish you were dead.
And finally when you’d beg me, I’d let you do it. I’d let you finish off the job….
and then save your life. Because that’s one thing that you wouldn’t be able to deal with. It would ruin you. Forever. I don’t want you to be okay. I want you to be as horrible and as broken as I am.
You’re a weak human being. You always have been. Susceptible to rumors, chaos and darkness. It would be so easy to break you. To ruin your life. Just to see you cry. Apologize to me. That’s all I want. Closure.
Because you never even let me have that, did you? You just left me hanging there, no pun intended, on the noose. Waiting for the drop. And when the drop finally came, you didn’t even know. Didn’t feel any remorse, guilt, pain. And That is what you owe me.
So if I ever break. If I ever let myself breakdown, give in to my true feelings, you can bet that I’ll be coming to you first. And you should know exactly why.
I won’t. No, not now. Because I’m better than that. Better than you. And I can’t give up like that again.