It’s been 4 years and I still don’t know what to do with your letter inked with love and blood. Although I still Wonder what was more in it, the love or the blood?
You were the one crazy love I had. You taught me nothing but to be captive. You made be nothing but helpless. And here I am still standing on the same streets, taking the same roads every day, yet managing to not fall apart. I can’t help it to not write to you today. Because I have been this way a really long time down the road and it still isn’t getting better. I didn’t know that one amazing day would never let me love my day again. And I terribly hate you for that. For loving me so very much that I forgot to love myself. I kept falling down since the day and nothing followed but miseries. Every coming year it gets worst and I hate you for that. Do you hear me? I hate you for everything you did for me, every single thing you did to me.
I know you must be out there somewhere, maybe doing fine, maybe not, Maybe seeking revenge or maybe still love. I clearly and fairly, don’t know. But what I do know is, you shouldn’t be supposed to be still making a place here. I wish I could have forgotten every detail of yours. I don’t wish to keep anything that belongs to you; more or less it only binds my will to you. On my way I have learned to forget everything, I even managed to love again, share my happiness and borrow tears of others, but I still failed, just because I failed to forgive myself, and this ruins everything. I couldn’t keep it as a lesson because there wasn’t any. I couldn’t keep it as a memory because I don’t wish to run it. There is just one single thing which brings all of this, the guilt, the guilt of being so naive. And maybe I don’t want to be naive anymore, and that’s why I couldn’t forget it all. But at the end of the day, I am still waiting for it all to fade away.
– Someone who is still finding courage to hate you