I didn’t die.
It’s been a week since I was released from the hospital.
My medical aid paid for it.
I’m such a failure.
You wanted me to die.
But I couldn’t. The doctor told me that you took me to the hospital.
Somewhere in my heart I wanted you to come and visit me.
But you never came.
After all, why would you?
I am the one who loves you.
And the feeling is not reciprocated.
You hate me.
I get it.
Then why did you send me to the hospital?
Why not leave me to die.