"You’re not completely angry at me, I know it. You’re more angry at yourself that you didn’t know how to keep me around. I know it still hurts, you can’t even stand being in the same room with me and I know it still scares you to think that you might still love me, even after all the time. I don’t want you to feel like it’s wrong, I often times feel that way about you. I think I still love you, then I think I forgot how to. You’re not the same person I knew once and let me tell you that it keeps me up at night sometimes to think that the person I once loved, doesn’t exist anymore but I guess that’s okay only because I know deep in my heart, that there’s something different in me too. I’m nothing that you know, nothing that you’ll ever know again. I know that you still have my blood stains all over you, my fingerprints all over you, you know you haven’t forgotten about it, you know you won’t forget about it. I was the one, I wasn’t the only one yet it’s still enough to know I cross your mind enough for you to confuse it with ruinous fires, anger . So go ahead, tell your friends that you don’t think of me, at all, tell them that I’m the one you regret, tell them that you wish your path had never been intertwined into mine and much less your heart, tell them that she’s much better for you, that your mother thinks she’s wonderful, that your father has yet to meet her. Tell them anything to soothe your aching soul but remember who loved you no matter how fucked up of a person you were."