Dear Not-So Anonymous Reader,

First Day on the Job

June 7th, 2016

I've finished my late dinner, my dormantful curfew is 3:00 AM. I have hours of work in my path. It's like disarming a bomb; "Ya' gotta' do it, 'cause if you don't, somebody'll be hurtin'". I'm not doing this out of an ordinary sudden inspiration, I'm doing this because I truly have to, for I shall never forgive myself otherwise. And yes, WattPad is my purposeful medium of choice - She reads it, usually once a week at her local library. Funny how this all worked, I remember some years back she told to me this: "Write a book about it".

I don't know where I heard it, but this is how it goes: "Write with your heart, revise with your mind. If you stop to think, you're not writing.", such a fail-proof algorithm...

It's been hours since the very end, the cutting of the cord. I had to do it, it was the right thing to do, no matter how much the pain agonizes me in its furthering grasp at my bosom's core, my silenced soul. Today I told her I was going "on a great journey, to find my place in the world". It was the last thing I wrote to her - she didn't write back. The last thing she wrote to me was, "please stop. please just fucking stop."  (These are text message tidbits, meant to retain capitalization configuration, thus I intentively ignored grammatical rules, don't judge.).

I will admit, gradually through some recent years my mind has collapsed upon itself; I have become mentally incoherent, insane if you will (I'll get to that later...). But ah, ah! It's not what you're thinking... What I wrote that should forever discern her from me was meant to be insane, so crazy that it would hit her where it would most hurt, so that it may work, and so that she could be free.

I told her, soon after her rancid response, that the old Albert is at rest, and that I longer felt the perpetual pain that consumed me every single fucking night for almost a thousand days end on. Oh and, the details of such a broken message, I'll spare for the next one or two, hundred or so, meters of text down the computer screen of which I am writing this at.

Just merely hours ago I closed my Google account for good. (I know this is a means of e-mail, and the link between it and texting will also be saved for more keyboard strokes.). Indeed, I did leave on bad terms, very, very bad terms. I wanted her to be free, I wanted her to be happy - Even if it shatters everything that I am, this makes me feel a tad bit better for her.

Oh Jeez, this feels so bland, if only the muses of my tears moments before I sprung this idea had lingered for a bit longer. For sure this story will accumulate in momentum, just give it some time, Al.

Six times today, I fell into a rage of tears that struck me so treacherous, all I could do was sit in my bed, rocking back and forth, and back and forth, excessively for everlasting hours, clenching my teeth until they too ached. I couldn't leave my house, I cannot look at the sky... It reminds me of her.

She told me near the end that she wasn't the "old her". I made my attempts to tap her maple oak, and extract her meanings with this. Before I strike alarms, I somewhat can confirm she means that a three-year span of time has evolved her into a different being, one that I am not aware of, as I wasn't there for said span of time, despite how much I wish I had been. My leaving was not my fault, and she even told me that had I been there, it wouldn't have changed a thing.

It was all just a trip for fuckin' biscuits! Of course it never matters how much you dedicate yourself, even if you feel your driven by a force that won't just leave you no matter just how much you beg it would. The pain is so intense that it surpasses any effort to seize it into typed words. I know the feeling is sure to storm by during my course of writing this, and when it does, the reader may finally be able to barely fathom it within their mind.

But among other numerous responsibilities, this is one to annex. It is my greatest responsibility, and it overtakes the place of any other. It won't leave me, now matter how much I beg it would just part from me, because she needs to be happy, she's a normal person yet my mind just won't accept it. It won't accept this is the forever end between us, and it doesn't know what the heck to do. This is why I'm writing this, despite how inglorious, foolish, or mediocre it may seem.