Chapter 1
Dear,
You know what, it doesn’t matter who this is for. All that matters is what I have to say. Clearly if you’re reading this then, this is for you.
Clearly you don’t really understand as much as you pretend to, otherwise I wouldn’t be hearing all the hearsay involving you. Is it really hearsay, if I heard you say it before? Is it wrong to assume that a person has been pretending when that’s what they always do. You see, I’ve learned a few things tonight when I was left alone to think about it all. Pretend all you won’t, but I won’t be doing it anymore.
Would it be wrong of me to text you in all caps FUCK YOU? Followed by some bullshit about how blood is thicker than water? What does it matter to you? You get half the story or assume what you want and run with it and I’m tired. I’m tired of hating myself because I’m trying so hard for fuckers like you. I want you to love me with the same kind of intensity that I’ve always loved you with.
I want you to appreciate me in the same way that I am appreciative of you. I give and I give and all you do is take and you think that shit is okay. IT’S NOT! It never will be. You piece of shit excuse for family go behind my back, band together and trade lies about my life stories making yourself look like the good guy like their trading cards.
I’ve got a few tales of my own, but what good would it do when all you’d do is deny them like you’re actually someone to lie about or to. Newsflash, you’re not because....WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! Why am I the only to be penalised for half truths and made up stories? Why doesn’t anyone ever want to hear my side of the story? Too scared that the truth will be too much of a reality check for you?
Then I become the bad guy for thinking of myself first. I am the bad guy for opening my mouth to say no. I’m the bad guy for calling you on your shit, but somehow you’re the hero for spewing bullshit about me? How does that work? How is that even fair? It’s not. You want to hate me so bad and none of you have even fucking answer as to why.
So gone ahead and cast me as the bad guy. Continue telling half the story and leaving out your worst parts. Continue to ostracize and isolate me. Why the fuck should I care? The moment I found out who you all truly were, I remembered who I am. Dear, whoever the fuck this is for. Kiss my ass, because when I’m dead and gone I want none of you at my funeral.
Cremate me and remember me as I lived.
Alone, Depressed and the Devil knocking on everyone’s door.
Sincerely,
The piece of shit you claim me to be.
