I’m a wreck.
A big fucking wreck.
Others on the outside can’t see it, for some reason, and marvel at whatever it is they see in me. They want in, but I certainly don’t let them.
I let you in, though, and I’m still not sure if it was a mistake or not. You’re the only one who knows I’m far from perfect. You know I’m a sinner with countless monsters, always rattling in their cages.
I’m not here to write a sappy love letter. I’m no poet. I’m just here to tell the truth.
Thank you for being the only constant thing in my tornado-made-of-fireballs-hit-a-truck-of-radioactive-waste-in-a-volcano-full-of-vampire-squid-from-hell of a life. Thank you for always loving me.
I’m terrible, obsessive, and insane, but I love you.
I’m sorry you have to deal with that.