May, 2018.
"try to open up" she started " try to speak up"
" I did tried, but to be honest, not with my own will" I stopped, debating weather I should continue or not.
"I always thought I was forced to do so...I might was." "it did nothing but left me more insecure"
" You know-"
"I always ended up hurting myself"
I tried to hold them, but guess it didn't work, I broke down.
She kept the silence. That was the only one thing I liked about the place. I felt freedom there, totally independent, I was allowed to do whatever I want, I can be myself there. Can be all of the things I was missing. I was living death on my own home. Turn into believe that point.
'Suicide became the ultimate way of escape'
As the place was quite suffocating for me I never stayed longer than 40 minutes. So, I came back home early that day. Climb up the stairs silently, so no one will know that I'm home.
I throw myself on my 'sunlit' bed.
Can't help pick up the letters and start re-reading.
But, no matter how many times I read them, they always ended up with the same last words: Sorry.
LOVE, Siddđź–¤
I wasn't really fond of reading them. I never was. I might never will be. It became even hard to think about things. It was just like replaying a video again and again. I also became fed up with things that please me once.
All I realized that, how only the letter kept the things alive between us. Even though I hated them, they really did, kept me happy in my so called 'river-of-unhappiness-life'. They always do makes me happy again. I like being happy. I crave being happy. I was happy with even very little things. Finding bright sides after spending infinit of times watching 'Full House' and 'Fuller House'. Just like I don't have to carry a gas cylinder around. That's the bright side of getting lungs transplant. Crazy, right? My another addiction! Well, the whole universe knows that's not the worst. At least not worse than addictive by someone who's not even worth it.
Well, it's hard to hate a person once you loved.