Dear N,
I used to love so many things. My heart, ever so sensitive, loved hard. Sometimes a little too much. I took pride in such. I find it a curse now. Music was a way to my heart and soul. It eloped me in obsession fondness. I find myself lacking in such passion. I used to love myself. I was happy with what I saw. Now I don't recognize the person I see. I only notice flaws. I used to love my favorite things in the world: Star Wars, Reading, Writing, Intimacy, Romance, Nighttime. I used to love being myself. You stole that from me. You've stolen, my love. I now have nothing left to give. There is nothing left to show. I am a husk. You have stripped me of everything I enjoyed. Simply because my mind is plagued by the memories of you enjoying me and my loves. Memories forever tainted by your poisonous rapture of my well-being. How can I ever be the same. How can I heal when there's nothing left to mend. Worst of all, you took the one thing I loved most. You took yourself away in another's favor and left me out to spoil in your distasteful dismount from our bumpy ride.
I used to love so many things. They are all gone. Except for you, my deceitful dear.
- Love, your always and forever
