I tried hard to spell out your name correctly, as hard as I tried to climb your walls. And it turned out to be wrong, turned out that I was wrong. So I suppose you’re just another mistake, a lesson to learn from.
I pulled every detail together, listened and collected news after news, summed everything up and it equalized that you’re not worth a frown or a tear from me. Not anymore. I picked up the pieces I have left, and picked up more than I thought I could. I am now complete, probably bruised, but complete.
Honestly, it was difficult for me. Everything was. But friends and independence taught me that ‘it’s not that hard’. I could have wasted my love on you if I didn’t quit. You don’t deserve that love. ‘Cos one, you’re an asshole. Two, you’re still an asshole. I wanted to know more about your follies, every single sad and pathetic detail but it would tangle the wires of this show. You might not want any of my sympathy and you deserve none. Knowing you being an asshole is enough. Your pretty lies and deceitful eyes, everything, I figured them out. Like worms slithering on the ground, I detest them and they’re a sore to my sight.
I have nothing more in store for you but loathing and these words. I could’ve written less but I hate you too much. And just so you know, I can destroy you anytime. But that would be unnecessary, because you’re a chaos yourself.