You and I

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I loved you for the longest of times.
That day, when you hugged me for the first time... remember that?
I do.
The day we got our first matching tattoos together...remember that?
I do.
You were always the wild one, and I was the calm one.
"Ville, you're such a girl!"I always sort of wanted you to see me that way. I liked how you saw me as a girl, because it always made me feel like I had a chance with you.
Maybe I did.
Maybe I didn't.
Maybe I was too much of a weak girl for you in the end.
How many mornings did we wake up together in the same bed with a laugh, and not have had sex the night before?
How many days did we spend laying in the grass together watching the clouds drift by as I hummed a short tune for you?
How many evenings did we sit next to eachother on the couch, infront of your fireplace watching the flames dance, and waiting for eachother's advance?
How many nights did we see turn to morning as we looked out the window, our hands splayed on the glass, nearly touching?
You wouldn't remember.
You don't want to remember.
you CAN'T remember.
What happened to the Bambi I loved?
When you drank, I drank. When you smoked, I surely did too. Whatever you did, I did.
Until you went overboard.
Until I couldn't laugh at what you were doing.
Until I was too scared to even watch.
It with a pill. Just a pill.
And then another.
And another.
And another.
And another.
You would take a bottle of the things and look at me with glossy, empty eyes. You would whisper to me, words that didn't make sense. You'd pass out, and i'd catch you, and i'd take you to bed, and lay there next to you teary eyed until morning.
It wasn't just pills.
Everything you got your hands on you tried. And liked. And tried again. And continued to like.
You loved many things; Swallowing, Injecting, snorting, smoking.
But I wasn't on that list.
I didn't fit on that list anymore.
When I left that list, you didn't even notice. You didn't even care. You didn't need me, because i couldn't do what coccaine could. I couldn't do what pot could.
I wasn't enough.
I tried to stop you.
I snatched things from you. Flushed things. Threw things. Broke things. Yelled things.
Then you would yell back.
You would yell at me at the top of your lungs, and throw me into a wall.
I'd cry.
You'd cry.
I cried for you. You cried for you too.
The bruises from that healed.
You didn't.
Inside, I didn't.
We're both the same, Bam.
We're both broken, and we can't be fixed.
I thought you loved me. I thought i loved you. We used to fit together, you and I. We knew eachother better than anyone else. We were practically the same person.
Were.
Now...
You don't love me. I can't love you. We can't be forced together, you and I. We don't know eachother anymore, and neither does anybody else. We are two different people, where there is no fantasy or no reason.
I left you in your room, the day you were taking too much.
I left you there to care for yourself.
Next to your bed, you were. Hopefully you didn't miss it when you passed out.
Hopefully you will one day realize you miss me.
And quit.
And resurrect the Bambi I knew, felt, craved, loved.
I hope, I wish, I pray.
Goodbye, my darling.
Loved you,
Ville Valo

Bam's Journal
Prelude to rehab
I had that dream again. That dream of Ville taking care of me after getting drunk, then leaving me with a letter in bed and falling out a window. I sat up and screamed like usual, and didn't fall back asleep even though it was 4am.
He's been gone. I've been gone.
I haven't seen him in a year, except for the dreams I get every night.
I go on, day by day, holding the crumpled letter in my hand, re-reading it over and over, trying to find him in it.
It was so ironic that I was always on Novak's back for being such a drug addict. I would always tell Novak to do something about his drug addictions. I'd even embarrass him into action. And I was nothing better.
If anything, I was worse than Novak. At least Novak was able to keep friends as a junkie, but me...
Well, let's just say I haven't come into human contact in a long time. I haven't smiled in ages, let alone laughed, or had fun, or been happy.
I didn't take it well at first, and I drank like there was no tomorrow. It was more out of torture than self-satisfaction.
Shit, I still haven't taken it well.
But I realized he was right.
I put down everything toxic, and literally trembled, as my body tried to get me to start with the booze and drugs again, and my will kept me from doing it...
for a while.
It's so hard to give up on all of this shit.
...I miss him.
I want him.
I miss my old life.
I want it back.
And I'm going to fucking try.

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 21, 2015 ⏰

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