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You look down on, me so casually
In everything I know
You look down on me, but not right on me
Did I wreck this broken home?

She distanced me from her and made it clear that she didn't want to see my face again. I was torn.

I didn't sleep,

I didn't eat,

I didn't talk,

All I did was wallow in self pity, consuming bottle after bottle of any alcohol I could get my hands on.

At that moment I knew I had hit an all time low.

Looking back, it probably was her 'team' that decided to whisk her away from me, but I thought it was all her. I blamed myself for days and months. Almost a year I spent holed up in my room, dealing with the demons in my head. I barely had  the energy to stand up on good days, and on bad days I stared at my ceiling, wishing for a simpler exit than death.

Until a letter arrived. From her. I stashed it under the piles of paper that had accumulated during my 'time of hibernation'. I even tried to write songs, y'know, them sappy break up ones that you hear on the radio being sung by a JB sound-alike.

One day I had enough. I needed an outlet. I needed a place to deposit all my pent up feelings. Since I wasn't much of a poet, I decided to do the next best thing, playing my old out of tune guitar.

Message after message I received, telling me that she was sorry, but who could I trust? There were rumours going around about how management take control of who you contact, and will file restraining orders against whoever decided to step in their path.
If they weren't so keen on my before, why'd they let me talk to her? I hated that I was potentially ignoring her, but I didn't want to be in Fame's burn book just yet.

If she cared why'd she tell me to stay away?

You're A Mess || Tony Perry ✔️Where stories live. Discover now