I feel torn and shredded and pummeled to dust. I feel like a thousand of pieces of nothing. Why? Why you. Oh god why you. I hate you, every feeling I have felt for the past three years can be attributed to you. Well, at least 50 percent of them. But you have no clue. I’m dying, at least that’s how it feels. You are blind, you just don’t know the effect you have. Thing is, this has to stop. I have to stop. It’s all me in the end, you’re just living and it isn’t really your fault that I love you, or that you made me the monster I am today. It’s not your fault.
I need to move on and stop feeling the way I do about you. There’s a girl who actually likes me and so far it seems like I might have a chance at being happy with her, a chance to stop feeling like I’m made up of twisting thorns. She’s sweet and has a great taste in music, she burns me CD’S. She is so much better than you could ever hope to be because she’s honest and isn’t making up for anything. I wish I could have never met you. I just wish you had never appeared here.
Can’t wait till I tell you this someday, that I loved you once. If I don’t tell you you’ll never know.