An Open Letter

Everything's just a trick of the mind right now. I don't know what's something real to be sad about. Maybe I'm just depressed. I told myself I wouldn't even think about it until 1k so I won't. But it's scary that the thought is creeping around, waiting for a spot to move back into.

It's this weird romanticization that does it for me. I see myself laying down in an almost out of body experience, like a scene from a movie. How am I supposed to be upset at anybody? The cruelest people to me have always been victims. She was the one who found her grandma when they hung themselves. And now their mom is gone to the same curse. How can I blame them. God knows how strong she has to be. I'm sorry for everything you've had to endure, and I'm sorry I had to do what's best for me. God I'm sorry for us both.