• Goddammit, Wayne Owen B.

    by  • November 24, 2011 • Frustration • 0 Comments

    Yeah. I put your name in the title.
    I hope you fucking read this.
    I’m pissed the hell off.

    Seriously? We haven’t talked in god knows how long. You broke my heart, I destroyed your world. But am I seriously the only one that gives a fuck what you’re doing to yourself?!?!

    (Okay. I’m going to calm down. I’m going to stop the cursing. I don’t curse. It’s not ladylike.)

    Apparently so. Apparently I’m the only one that believes in you.

    You’re shoplifting? Again? I thought you stopped. You’re going to get yourself thrown in jail. And the drugs? Oh Wayne. You could do anything. You’re smart. Unbelievably so. You’re brave, resourceful, strong.

    Please.. Please read this. Please just let this message get to you. Somehow. Someway. I care about you.

    I don’t you won’t believe that. But you don’t know me anymore. You might just be proud of the monster I’ve become.

    I miss you so much.

    Please. Please, just stop what you’re doing. I’m so worried.

    Text me, whatever. Call me a whore, a slut, a bitch. I don’t care. Just please. Please stop.


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