To Let Go

Thirty One

          To My Best Friend,

I am sorry.
But you must know, it was not my fault.

You'd try to save me from drowning, but I wanted to give into the rough waters.
I'd rather die than live if it meant no more agony.

My only wish:
Tell the truth.

If I told you something, a deep dark secret, would you keep it?
Cause two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.
In this case, when I die, you'll tell my secret anyways.
So maybe that doesn't apply.
You will tell everyone what I have endured, for you are on of the only ones that saw the worst of me, and saw the good through the torment.

You've stayed through my outbursts,
Through my screams and insults.
Through every hour of some days,
Through my meals and feeds.
You all have given me something that you knew I could never return: love.

So please, give my appreciation to my family,
For they have suffered enough through their failed attempts.
At this point, I think I'm incapable of love.
So appreciation will do.

Please don't bother with a service.
I don't deserve it.
Wrap me in an old black sheet from the attic.
Throw me in the river, and don't think about the slash I will create.

You can take and give anything from my Possessions. They never meant anything anyways. To my sister, my green notebook, the one with the clover in it. To my parents, my books and paintings. Sell the furniture and the appliances and stereo and what ever you want. But for yourself, take my red band from my ER visits, my admission, anyone you'd like. Yes, I still have the you gave me. You gave it to me, now I will give it back. Think of it as a thank you.

Please remember, I destroyed my body for a peace of mind I never got.
I am sorry I've messed up horribly.
It's all my fault.
This was the only way to silence the voices.
You have held onto me, desperate to keep me alive.

Now you need to let me go.

Sincerely,
                 Emma Chota