What do you have hiding under there? What is it you think you are too smart to let people see?
You selfish prick
And now look at you
Alone. Somewhere, could be fucking anywhere
And now you make me feel guilty for wishing you wouldn’t come back here. I didn’t know if this town would be big enough for the both of us. And now you may never come back. You could be fucking dead.
And I am not really a part of your life anymore. You decided that remember? You couldn’t fucking sort your shit. Stop drinking, stop doing drugs, because you can’t. How many times do you have to learn that lesson, how low is your rock bottom turning point?
And now your parents ring me and ask if I’ve seen you, you fuck. It just makes me angry now. Some of the most decent people I have ever met. Is it the adoption thing? Nicer people couldn’t have chosen you. Chosen. What is it?
How do you think it feels for the people who love you to watch you do this to yourself? How can you fucking do it to them? Seriously how can you do it to them?
Oh we all know you love me, and probably still love. You were sober when I met you but we peer pressured you into joining us at the pub. The guilt from that, how was I to know. I really loved you but I was a bit wild to be good for you. I loved driving with you to the top of glacial valleys, fucking majesty, talking to robins. Drinking a bottle of overpriced wine in the middle of nowhere listening to music. But you can’t handle that, well you can, we had some of the best times in the most amazing places, but you can’t have the drink around you. We also had some of the worst drama once you started again. When the going gets tough you just go deep. I’ve seen you in that place and you go way down, deep under the sea. I’ve seen you in the mental hospital, those eyes just…
And now I get a call from you parents, you never showed up at your brothers and haven’t been heard from in days. Of course we’re worried.
Sometimes I think you just think are too good for everyone else. Your brother. Your friends, those people loved you but you just turn away. My family, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for that until you apologise. That’s my fucking family, “white trash” though they may be they are still fucking good people and they looked out for you. But even if you disagreed with the way they lived their lives, you should have done it for me, I love my family and you knew that. I’m really starting to fully appreciate how family does comes first.
I hated it when you were nicer to the animals than me. That photo you hated shows it so clearly. You broke me. I fought you back, you don’t speak to people like that, but after a while, and a long while too, watching you get better and worse, better and worse, after awhile I just would cry when you started yelling at me, I cowered when you stood over me. Thank goodness you were a vag-itarian so you couldn’t push me around much.
And now when I’m slowly coming back, and making life my bitch again you, fuck, you do this.
Stuff this I got work to do.
I can try and tell myself you are not my problem because that is the logical thing to do, but it doesn’t work.
The guilt is huge. Was it the drink at the pub? Was it me? Did I fuck it up at the start again?
So fuck you, I hate to say it, because I pity you really.
You said it best your self. A child in a wounded insect
I just hope I haven’t made you worse. What if you knew I was talking to him after it was over. Makes me feel sick.
Fuck, the guilt.
So fuck you, fuck you for doing this to me. I want my life back. I want some time to breathe, the stress you put me through in the last few years shows on my body even though I stayed cool. I’m knotted and sallow and smoking again.
I hope you are okay, where ever you are tonight.
Maybe drunk in your car, lying in the middle of majestic nowhere, way down deep. I bet you are cold but too drunk to notice. I wonder how many days you have been drunk for. I bet you smell horrible.
I hope you get better soon, because you are so much better than this.
So much better.
Always will be love,