letters

Tom's Letters

Hey. I miss you so much. I read all your letters, by the way. I wanted so badly to tell you all of this but I realised too late that I could've talked you out of it. I could've helped. But I'm a fucking idiot so... I didn't.
Please don't be dead...

TORD THEYRE BACK THEYRE BACK IM SAHAKING ASO AHRD TORD INeed YOU SO MUCH TEHYRE TELLKINH ME TO KILL MYSELF

I ???? you so much tord.

Where is God? There's so many people on the streets starving. Dying. Freezing.

Where the fuck is he, Tord? He's just letting people die.

they always

fucking

come back

THEY ALWAYS COME BACK

AND THEY ALWAYS TELL ME WHAT TO DO

Today, I learned that silence is deafening. Just... the roaring in my ears because there was no human voices to break it.

Today, I learned that nothing is worth it. I could go and shoot a man, go to jail, and die in there. It wouldn't matter.

Today, I learned that it's not fucking worth it.

Today, I learned how much I miss you.

P.S. the thoughts wont go away.

And the thing is, Tord, I fucking hate you.

The way you look. Act. WHAT YOU MAKE ME FUCKING FEEL.

I hate it.

But maybe that's just the emotions bubbling up. Memories I've repressed for years on end.

Why are they coming up now?

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a kid named Tom.

He was kind of an idiot, yeah?

He trusted too much. He didn't know how to say no. And that led to Tom being violated over and over by the person he trusted most.

He was terrified. He didn't leave his room for months. And when he did, he didn't speak. He didn't let anyone touch him. He didn't eat. Eventually, the person that ruined his life got exposed.

But the thing with that, it doesn't get rid of the memories. Or the scars he gave himself. Or the marks that physically faded.

He was young. He didn't deserve to be fucking ruined.

Fuck you, dad. I fucking hate you. Thanks for ruining me.

I love you, Tord.

You see, Tord, no matter how many times I say I hate you, I still love you.

I said I hated you. I fucking hate you. I really, really do.

And yet...

I love you.

There is no reason behind my love. Nor is there reason for my hatred.

I just feel.

That's fucking dumb, I know. There should be an explanation.

Nevertheless, I think we would have been good. We could have been a stock photo couple. Sitting on picture perfect grass with a sky that has no clouds.

Maybe we would have been the kind of good that seems abusive.

You could yell at me, scream at me, beat me, or tell me every flaw I have, and I'd still love you.

Maybe you'd keep Edd and Matt out. Stop letting me go out. Smash my phone.

But, I wouldn't need them.

I'd have you.

The gallows, the noose, a rope around a neck.

Waiting for you to guess enough wrong letters to drop the floor from under him and lynch him.

It's all fun and games. Something you'd play in primary school.

When you're young and innocent and haven't learned about the mass hangings of blacks.

The horrors of war and politicians screaming out allegories that have been twisted to manipulate the citizens.

When you know nothing of the fight for equality that still hasn't been won on either side.

The game I'm talking about is hangman.

Soon, I'll be the man swinging from a noose.

I once was told that repeating a word over and over again will make it lose it's meaning.

I lay in my bed at night, staring at the ceiling.

There's a crack in it. One we never bothered to fix. A little bit of water damage.

Whatever.

I repeat your name.

Over and over.

Hoping -- Praying to a god I don't believe in -- that I'll forget you.

That you'll lose meaning to me with every breath.

And then I had a fucking epiphany.

I can just be with you.

Edd, none of this was you. You're my best friend. I love you.

Matt, don't let your ego get in the way. It's suffocating. Like, I have to feel worthless so you can feel worth everything. Deflate it a little. I love you.

Bye.