….and I want to walk away from you.

It always comes back to you. I can’t help but wonder where I went so horribly wrong. I really f’ed this one up. How is it that you’re my only regret.

and fuck you. I’m getting married to someone I love. Fuck you for hating me for that. Fuck you for pretending to be my friend, pretending that you were fine with that, that you were fine with the choices I’ve made. Fuck you. I wish I could more eloquent, but this culture has taught me not use my full vocabulary.  I’m sure you’ll understand, I am the one with the college mind after all.

and I want to walk away from you. I want to wipe my hands clean from this six year relationship of mutual torment. Why can’t I? Why the fuck can’t I just leave it at that. I have to stay my hands from emailing you, writing you a letter. Why the hell do I want to be your friend?

Why after being hurt by you so often do I want to still talk to you. why the hell do i still care about what becomes of you. You obviously don’t care about my happiness.

and now I"m writing like an angsty teenager once again. I hate that. I’m almost 23, I need to be beyond this. My insurance only pays for six therapist visits a year. I can’t afford you.

You bring out the depression in me. Never am I so consumed by feeling of remorse and regret and saddens as when I think about you.

damnit. why can’t you just find someone to love  you and support you. why can’t you just suceed. So that I don’t have to feel so tragic.

fuck you. and yes, I still love you. But I won’t ever love you the way you want me to. I’ll never even kiss you or hug you. But I’m always going to love you no matter how much you hurt me.

(it’s clear that I need help. I don’t want you. I don’t want to care.)