How pathetic it feels to write a pity note for myself… or maybe this is for you.
All I know is that the pain that you’ve caused me was enough to make me only want to see black. I don’t think I can recall a pain so destructive. I have cried myself into calmness and have contemplated death as a means of peace before, I have. Haven’t we all in our darkest hour? But this… this pain was one that took me from the inside out, gutted me, tortured me and smiled in my face as the blade was in my back. It lingered to feast on my emotions and toyed with any ounce of confidence, pride, ego I had left. I only hate myself more, instead of you- that’s how much this has gotten a hold of all that is me. The pain of your actions is a parasite living inside of all the important parts of who I am; my head, my heart; my logic; my emotions. No one should have hurt me like this, especially not you. How innocent and naive even the most wicked of us can appear. This hurt is all that thrives inside of me now. Your incomprehensible actions have left me a mere shadow of myself, day-to-day obsessing, obsessing, deteriorating.
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