To Whom It May Concern

January 11, 2011 at 10:15 PM

A riddle. 

Whats worse than fucking with someone’s happiness?

The answer.

Fucking with someone who’s never happy to begin with.

Hurt is beyond how I’m feeling right now. (sorry for lying. It doesn’t hurt. It burns.)

The whole drive home, I thought of angry things to say in this post about everyone.

Now that its time to step up to bat, I am drawing a blank. 

Only this white tablet.

My only REAL friend. 

This blank nothing. 

I could type anything. Say anything.

Maybe I’ll have a point. 

Maybe I won’t.

One thing is for sure. 

Nobody is going to hear from me.

I don’t know for how long.

Maybe a few hours…a few days…a few weeks.

I don’t know yet.

I’ve officially entered uncharted waters. 

I don’t know what to do at this point.

I’m afraid that if I stop writing, I’ll die.

And I swear to god, if anybody (jokingly or otherwise) makes a comment about the longetivity of this past relationship, I will punch a fucking hole through your fucking soul.

Am I kidding? Find the fuck out.

So, I respectfully ask the following:

Do not call me.

Do not text me.

Do not facebook me.

Do not stop by my appartment to check up on me.

I’m not okay. 

I might be eventually. 

But for now, I’m not.

Its not your fault. Or yours. And as much as I hate to say it, not yours either.

I just wanted to be fucking happy.

Thats it…

No more silly dreamer talk from me.

Thanks for listening.