i think of calling your grandma, just to talk about you one last time. to tell someone who understands that i love you desperately, like she loved you all your life. i realize it sound as creepy as it gets but isnt she the woman who told me she could be my new grandma if i needed one and mine is dead so i guess it fits.
you told me i was the person you loved most in this life but now that i think about it that was just another lie. you love yourself, the mask, the act, the illusion of togetherness that shatters the second youre black out drunk or naked in front of me. you love being sick as much as i do. you're like me.
we know that
but im sort of
the opposite of that
i cant hide, i cant fake, i cant just pot on a smile adn crack up jokes when in reality everythings trash. i guess you just hated being around me so much... why were you ever with me? i just keep asking to myself why over and over and cry and cry and do anything but learn.
i dont know how you do it
sometimes i really wish i could pull it off
cause i know you're hurting, but all you'll do is bury it all inside and my name will be nothing but a blurred sound you forget eventually. like you forgot your friends, the ones you gave up for me, the ones thats didn't matter in a month or maybe two. maybe less. i am so stupid for believing you wouldn't do that to me, i fell for the act and i got too close, didn't i? good job there shadow.
so ill just go
you'll come back anyway, maybe when she dies or something like that.
until then i only have that letter, i even made a drawing of us on the back of the last page. its all there is.
so maybe ill call your grandma to tell her i love you trying not to cry too much, maybe i wont dont know what im going to do of myself after writing this up.
ill just listen to how to get out of love again and cry alone and my room, with the computer on and the tabs opened, with an email draft adressed to you that i delete over and over.
