I thought it’d be easier to forget all about you if I weren’t to see you for a year. I thought I’d maybe meet someone new, fall in love, be happy… I didn’t think think that was too much to ask, or at least I thought your memory would slowly creep into that odd place of the brain where it was never to have any power over me. But, I saw you everywhere I looked, I heard your voice coming from every street, discerned the scent of you from every whiff of wind. I could’ve been a thousand miles away from you, and you’d still be there, wouldn’t you?
You’re that one part of me that hasn’t changed this year. I guess no one would recognize what I had become if it weren’t for that tiny piece of me that goes mad whenever it sees you, that one piece that hopes some way you are reading this, that you remember the good times we had, that you have the change of heart that will set me free, that you’ll suddenly realise you love me the same maddening way I love you, then I wouldn’t have to go on living the same damned life, for it is a damnation to love you, so painful, so haunting, so destructive.
I don’t know if you are at the root of everything that’s wrong with me or if I was already fucked up before I met you. I am a walking breathing disaster now anyway. I’m finding new ways to fuck myself deeper every day, because I’m so sick of this life, and I can’t wait for it to end, all the beer and cigarettes will hopefully make my ending closer. Why the hell did I ever love you? Why the hell am I screwing my life over for you? Why the hell didn’t you love me back when I tried for so many years?