But here I am, unable to sleep, brooding and boiling with anger. Why do we feel what we feel and how do we control it so that it doesn't destroy us? I want to shake this person and strangle her neck. I want to ask her so many questions. Did you make use of me? Yes. Yes you did. I gave you the permission to do so. Gave you the gun and the bullets and pointed you in the right direction. Why do you hate me so much? Am I really such a horrible person? What have I ever done to you? Somehow, I knew this about you. Knew how capable you are of manipulation and deception. Knew how desperate and hungry you are for success and praises, so much so that you would do just about anything to get it. I just could never nail it down. I refused to believe it. Somehow, I thought a part of you was still true.
If I could have found out about this earlier, would I still have continued to help you? Are we still friends? I don't know. I am feeling so very very tired. A single person has shattered my world tonight and I can do nothing about it but write it down and put it into words. Words are different from emotions. Words don't move around or jump about. Black little curves and lines stay still and stay quiet. The creator rains down more destruction as alphabets are stringed along. Poisoned. Deranged. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. And all the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
I feel like I don't know who to trust anymore. Who are my friends? Who are my foes? Friendship? What does it mean? Everything becomes fragile. It frightens me. Have I broken anything? A bone, a heart, or a wineglass? A single sentence disintegrates everything I thought we had between us. The words you said are suddenly laced with echoes that announce its barren and hollow nature to the world. You disgust me. I don't even want to see your face. I might slap you. No. No. No. I will be so disgusted with you that I can only stare.
You want to win, don't you. You want to be better than me. This competition, this secret and cunning hatred, motivates you. That's the reason why you love him. You think you won him over. You think that he chose between you and I, and because you were better than me, he picked you as the winner. Do you really even love him or is he some sort of sick trophy? That's the reason why everything you say forces emphasis and over-emphasis on how smart you are. That's the reason for the snide remarks and the spiteful sarcasm. You're not the first. You won't be the last. To act like this. Am I becoming like you now? Troubled by illusions and suspicions. Poisoned. Deranged. I know I cannot possibly please the world. I know that not everybody can accept and like me for who I am. But why can't you be honest? Why do you enjoy playing all these endless mind games? What are you afraid of? That the world would see you for who you truly are? That you are actually ugly deep down inside? So what? I am no better than you. I am human too. What do I have that you want? What do you want?
Or perhaps you think that I am different. Too different from you. You despise me. I am overly optimistic and idealistic and religious. I am naive. You are the great and wise one. Superior. You are everything. I am nothing. Does this make you happy? Does putting me down, make you feel good about yourself? Does backstabbing me really make you any better than me? Because I really don't care anymore. You can defend and fight for your own little paranoid delusions by yourself. A one man show. The limelight is yours. It really doesn't matter anymore. It is over. It is over. You are out of my life. You are no longer worth it. I will not let you get to me. You see, you're not the first. You won't be the last. To act like this.
I need a break. I am going to do a disappearing act. Do not contact me until 2007. You can try if you want, but you won't be able to reach me.