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One night I was talking to you. And I was feeling insanely suicidal. And it made you cry. That should have been enough. And if I could do it all over again it would have been all I needed. I’m sorry I suck. Pushing you out and being awful and difficult and sucky is the worst mistake I’ve ever made. Trust me, I’m paying for it. I’d give anything for a second chance.

It wasn’t enough because you have to want it for you. And you will.

It’s not your fault. It will never be your fault.


Even if you’re the only one who can make it go away, it’s not your job or obligation. You have your own shit to deal with and I’m not the most important thing for you right now and it’s okay. She matters more. She’s more important. Saying I’m difficult to love is an understatement. But when I’m gone you need to remember that I love you. And I’ll always love and that I would do anything for you if you asked. You’ll be okay. I know you will.

You sound crazy

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