For fucks sake I hate this. This feeling. This emptiness. This helplessness. This power that you hold over me, regardless of how little you try. I know you haven't even thought of me in a long time, and that's why it's hurts so fucking much when I can't not think of you. But I don't even know what I'm supposed to do to stop you, or to stop caring about and for you. I fucking hate you. I really do. But I can't hate you. Because hate is not something that was ever meant for someone like you. You're the greatest person I ever met. And I hate it. You're the worst person to ever hurt me. And I love it. How dare you. Why? I know I need to sort everything out within myself, and I know that to do so I may need to talk to you once more, just to ensure closure for the both of us. All of my friends say so. Everyone tells me that we need to talk so that we can both be ok. But they fail to realise. You ARE ok. I'm the one that is not. And even if you also needed to speak with me, or even wanted to, we can't. Well, actually I mean I can't. I can't bear the thought of being near you again, and not due to some anger, I know the anger I feel is not for you, but rather me. But the reason I can't ever see, or speak, with you again, is because I know that I am not strong enough, I'm so far from it. The facade I wear, masquerading as a well and strong man, will shatter like the brittle lie that it is. And when it shatters, I no longer have the strength to pick up my pieces, these last few years of defending and supporting my family has drained the last drop of strength from the last drop of my blood, I am now too weak. Actually, that is a lie. It is not that I am now too weakened, I was never anything but this pathetic and lacking of strength. My friends will not pick up my pieces neither, I will not allow it. This is not their job nor their duty, I will not burden them with my failures. That leaves you. You are the only one that could possibly pick my pieces up once again and possibly mend me. I cannot hide my true shattered self from you, so unlike my friends, you are the only one that will see me as I am, see me in need of help, but that means nothing still. You won't help me when I fall. And I'm glad. All I want for you is to walk away. Well not that you haven't already. I just mean that, if it even comes down to choosing between so much as a simple apology, a simple tissue being offered to wipe my tears, or you continuing the seemingly happy life that you are now living. Well I think it is pretty obvious what I want from you. I want you, need you, to do one thing. Please. Please? PLEASE?! Just please, ok? Forget me.
