Pieces of paper that once meant so much lie on the old beige carpet. I can't help but stare at them, their torn edges bent and wrinkled. The pounding of my heart is the only thing I can hear, as though the blood flowing through my body is flooding in my ears. There's something peaceful in this destruction I've created, like I've been rid of some evil I couldn't shake. That's when it finally hit me, what I had done. Your words scribbled on those letters with all of that thought and time just to be torn apart in a short burst of anger.
I just wanted you to feel the way I did. How could you leave me with no second thought? How selfish you are, dying because you thought the only person it would affect was you. And now you're gone and you've left me to sit alone on my floor, getting rug rash on my legs because the only way I feel grounded anymore is when I'm clinging to it. You left me because you couldn't live anymore, but why wasn't I enough? Did I not run through your mind when you did it? Was your hate for yourself really more than your love for me?
I guess I will never know, because you're gone now and I'm alone here in the same place that you abandoned me. If you thought nobody would care, you were so very wrong. I wish I could go back and tell you that I cared because I still do.