Right now, you're probably looking for a reason. There are many I could offer you, some more evident than others. Some say it was anger, some say worthlessness, some say depression. But there were a few, hidden down deep in the bottom of my heart, that are the strongest. And one is this: I knew it wouldn't last. I just had to come crawling back to you. I still don't have the slightest idea why. Every word spoken to you is just another misunderstanding, every action a mistake, every moment a frustration.
Yes, I did survive the time without you. Just in case you're wondering.
Which you're probably not.
For a short time, I thought I was happy. I thought you had forgotten and moved on, so I did too. I found others who cared. I received love from someone else. And it was almost just as good. Really. I just want you to know that.
I just can't believe you sometimes. I really can't. Its become beyond the point where I can just pass it off as a result of how you were raised or how over-protected and sheltered you've been from the world. I'm starting to think you just don't want me around anymore.
I'm finding it very hard to remember the last time we talked seriously. Or the last time you asked me if I were ok. Or the last time you looked me in the eye and said one nice thing about me. Or the last time you called me up, just to say hi.
Remember those days? I sure do. It was the only time in my life I was truly happy. You pulled me out of the greatest depression I had ever experienced in my time. I want you to know that too. I lived, I breathed, I loved for you. You were the only reason I lived. I woke up each morning with the hopes of seeing you smile. And for that brief amount of time, may it be only six months, I thought you loved me. I put my complete and total trust in you. I told you my life story, I shed my most deepest and darkest secrets with you. And what did you do?
You went and got yourself all torn up over her.
She was a knock out, a stunner, the one you've always dreamed of. She was the moment in your life you've looked forward to. And, yes, it was only just a moment. You'd catch the moon for her and steal the stars, you'd stop the would. You'd melt forever in her arms. You. Loved. Her. And guess how the story turned out in the end? How does it always? She tore your little heart out and sliced it in two. She ripped you out and shot you down. And who was there through the whole thing? Who held you while you cried, listened while you moaned and sobbed, "I just can't understand it. I loved her." Who, for the most part, cared?
It was me. In case you've forgotten.
Which you probably have.
How many times in my life, in a week, in a day, do I say I love you? Think about it. Every time I say goodbye, its "Goodbye, I love you." Every time I apologize, its "I'm so sorry, I love you." "I didn't mean it, I love you." Every time I see you smile, laugh, cry... "I love you."
How many times have I gotten an "I love you" back?
Think about it.
Every time I talk to you I'm pushed away. I couldn't even hug you anymore without a disapproving glare, a sharp shove, a threatening whisper of "Stop it, you're embarrassing me..." How do you think I feel? Maybe I just wanted a hug back. Maybe I wanted to know the person I live for still cares.
Maybe I wanted to hear "I love you too." Just once.
And what happens in this little story we call life? We have ups, we have downs. We're saved, we're pushed right back off the cliff? What happens? The sequence of events starts all over again.
I'm right back where I started from before you found me, before you saved me. The only thing I look forward to in my life is to see you smile. To hold you, just for one second of my day, before you push me away. I go through a life of beatings just for you and you alone. I love you with every ounce of passion in my body. And then I hate you with every last inch of my flesh. I hold your picture in my hands, and I look at it, wishing your smiling face were real. That's the same picture I'll later cut up and set fire to. You've found another to love. And I wish you two the best of luck. I hope you like every last stand of her long blond hair, every feature of her perfect face, every bubbly characteristic of her personality. I hope she never breaks your heart again, because, sadly, next time I won't be around to care.
But I love you. And I always have. And I always will, no matter what. I may be angry, I may be disappointed or even a little bit jealous, but I will always. Always. Always love you.
I hope you never forget that. And I hope you'll now realize everything I've felt for you. In case you haven't by now.
But you probably have.
And that's reason I love the most.
He placed the letter back on the nightstand. Tears freely flowed down his face, from his bloodshot eyes ringed with the evidence of sleepless nights, to his soft and trembling lips. A quivering sigh escaped him as he tried to regain himself. His hands shook as he ran them through his hair and back to his face again. Unable to control himself, he let out a sob.
And he looked at her picture on the wall. She was smiling at him in an almost haunting way. He gently reached over to it, his thin fingertips softly caressing the image of her.
"I'm sorry..." He choked between sobs, "I'm so sorry, please…Please forgive me." He continued cry for some time. And she kept on smiling. "I love you…" He whispered. The room became still. The weeping quieted. He stopped mid breath.
And with one forceful tug, he ripped the picture off the wall.