What’s left to say? I believe I’ve said it all. And yet it still feels so raw. I’m still so angry sometimes, so filled with hatred and bitterness. And if I stay angry, I feel less vulnerable, less hurt... there is less pain. Rage is like a cushion on which I can sail. If that means me moving forward, is that a bad thing?
Yet you confuse me. As you always seem to. We had a connection. You made me want to be a better person. But that was once, a long time ago now. But even back then, I could hardly believe I could have been so lucky to know you. And now all I want to do is write you off, because everything you ever said to me were lies. Nothing but self serving lies. It was meant to make YOU feel better, not me. Even if I couldn’t see it then. Now I have a folder full of your lies and shit. I’m going to have a burning party in my backyard and I’m going to burn everything you touched, anything that reeks of you. And that will be my tribute gesture to you. I don’t know how hate and love can co exist so closely, but don’t flatter yourself. The love part was an illusion. Now I see it for what it is – a delusion.