To the girl I have never met,
I am sorry, for any and all the pain and suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention. You might find that hard to believe, and I do not blame you. I have realized, throughout all this, that with matters of love and of the heart, one becomes selfish.
...I pride myself on being a person that does things that will allow me to sleep at night. And I do not know how I have slept for the past couple of months. I never thought I would become a person that I dislike, but I have. Perhaps I have been this kind of person all along and you, unfortunately, had to suffer through the consequences of my discovery of it.
Do you think that if we had met in different circumstances, that we would have become friends? Even good friends? Perhaps it is silly to think in such a way, but I admit that I do wonder.
You must hate me, girl I have never met. You must think the worst of me. And I do not blame you. I hate myself too. Everyday I am in agony, over the tug-of-wars my heart goes through. I cannot say if the moments of happiness are worth it, for how can you ever gauge the worth of happiness? But in my moments of sadness and loneliness, I would say, that the happiness... is not worth it.
I am not strong enough to control myself of satiating my smallest desires. Every little bit is a reward. I am starved in the category of feeling good, about myself, about everything. And my id cries in joy, like a child who threw a tantrum, and got what it wanted anyway. Spoiled. And I am disgusted with myself.
...but I cannot stop. Where does it end? How is it possible? How do you curb an addiction you never knew you had? How can you fight against the feelings of euphoria?
Everyday is a struggle. And perhaps it is my punishment for my transgression. Even in my moments of self-pity, there is a part of me that taunts me, "You deserved it."
Everyday, I try to talk myself into letting go. I trick myself into thinking that it means nothing. And every time when the time comes, when I feel like I am strong enough to do it... I am instead, overwhelmed and I become weak and I give into my weakness. It... is really pathetic. I laugh at myself everyday...
Maybe I am a worse person than I think myself as. I do not know anymore. But believe me, if you should ever believe anything that I say, this is it... that if I could take it back, I would.
I would.
Because you see, my mistake is that very exact moment, where I chose to let the fire spread instead of putting it out. The smoke makes me cry, dazed, drugged, but there is a certain beauty in watching it all burn. Only when the fire dies, will I see the wreckage I am in... And only then, will I realize, truly realize, what I have done.
And I apologize, from the deepest depth of my heart, if I ever had one.
I am sorry.
