I want the worst for you

And I know that is terrible,

and I know that I am supposed to wish the best for you. But I don’t. At least I don’t right now. Maybe someday I will all of a sudden feel lighter, I will wake up and the pain will have lessened and I will manage to be happy for you.

I can imagine someday in the near future, how very alone you are going to be. You never were very good at making friends, and my friends welcomed you in with open arms, always wanting to know if you were coming. My family loved you, even my grandmother had a spot for your little heart, and she hates everyone.

And now,

you have nothing.

I can imagine you in that shit box you call an apartment, no one calling, no one to see how you are doing. Your family is away, your brothers are worse than you at keeping in touch and nobody talks to you with a real heart, because you never let anyone in. Nobody will open up and nobody will share. With an emotionless box like you.

I hope you get set on fire.

I am sorry if they forget you,

I am sorry if you are all alone,

I am sorry if you spend Christmas crying.

But I am not at all.

You did this to yourself.




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