𝙒𝘼𝙓 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙎 - 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙗𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙩

vi

six: victims of the world

Vivian,

It has officially been two months since your passing.

Still, no matter what I do, everywhere I go, you always manage to find your way into my thoughts yet again. I went on a walk today, for the first time in a while, and it seems as though everything I look at is a reminder of the love we once shared.

Everything from your favourite book store to the very sunset we used to watch from the hood of my car is but a reminiscence of your love, and it's becoming nearly unbearable. Though, I guess it is quite funny to think that the things that once brought me so much glee have been weighing me down just as much now that you're gone.

I still have the bracelet you made me, you know. I haven't taken it off since the day you tied it onto my wrist. I remember how excited you were to give me something that you had spent so much time on and how happy it made me to see you all giddy. I find myself replaying all these things in my head now, nearly everyday. At the time, it had seemed so small, a little memory that I hadn't paid much attention to, but now they mean more to me than I could ever express in words.

I'm tired, Vivian. I'm so fucking tired. Of what, I'm not quite sure. I'm tired of you showing up in my thoughts the moment I close my eyes, I'm tired of everyone constantly asking what they can do for me as if they could possibly make this shitty world any better. I'm tired of the unfairness in this shitty world.

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve your hurting. You didn't deserve anything that this world had to offer. In fact, you deserved much more, so much more than I could have ever given you. I'm sorry Vi, so fucking sorry that the world hurt you like it did, but although it may pain me to say, it's comforting to think that it won't be hurting you like that again.

Yet Another Victim of this
World's Shittiness,
Wilbur