Letters for Muscles
March 11
My Dearest Muscles,
Time stretches on, and I’m exhausted. I’m sick of everything. I hate life. I hate being alive.
You know, I’m really sorry for whatever I did that pissed God off so much he felt he had to take you away. If not God, then some supreme being must have it out for me because they’ve sent me more grief than I can cope with. That or they’ve got a fuck-all idea of what “coping” looks like and have confused it with “crazy.” It’s only sheer willpower that’s kept me out of the asylum. That and the fact that I’ve got no bloody idea where the asylum is anyway.
I just… I need a day where I’ve got a schedule packed full of things to do, where I can’t dwell on anything. I need a day where everyone’s fighting, where people might actually be calling me for a chat, maybe I could clean somebody’s house, or maybe somebody’s got laundry for me to fold and put away. Maybe there are some forms to fill out or new people to meet, and maybe if I’m really lucky, there’ll be lots of rainbows and perhaps even the odd unicorn shooting glitter out of its arse.
Otherwise, I just sit here, and I think of all the things we aren’t going to have… all the lost time we’ll never make up for. Now, I don’t have anyone to come home to every night. We’ll never buy a house together, and we’ll never build a life together. We’ll never even get the chance to start a family if we wanted one. I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve lost the person I could always count on to catch me when I fall. I’ve lost the person who always told me the truth, even when it wasn’t always what I wanted to hear.
Well, here I am! I’ve fallen! I’ve fallen, and there’s nobody here who can wade through all this mess and bullshit to pull me out. There’s nobody to hug at the end of the day, nobody to tell me everything’s going to be alright. You made me a better person, Muscles, and now I think that person’s gone. I don’t know where she went, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t see anything good or light in this place anymore.
You knew everything that made me who I was. You loved me exactly as I was. You pushed me to grow, but you still loved me for who I am. I craved acceptance and love my entire life. It was something I desperately needed, and for some people it’s so hard to find. I got so lucky with you, Dean.
The world is so cold and unfeeling. It’s taken from me the one person I could depend on.
A hotline to the afterlife wouldn’t be so bad. Nor would a day I could go without crying. At night, my eyes and face ache from the tears.
I miss you so bad, I’ve burnt a permanent hole in my chest.
I used to think dying of a broken heart was rubbish, but I see now how possible it really is.
Love,
Blondie
Time stretches on, and I’m exhausted. I’m sick of everything. I hate life. I hate being alive.
You know, I’m really sorry for whatever I did that pissed God off so much he felt he had to take you away. If not God, then some supreme being must have it out for me because they’ve sent me more grief than I can cope with. That or they’ve got a fuck-all idea of what “coping” looks like and have confused it with “crazy.” It’s only sheer willpower that’s kept me out of the asylum. That and the fact that I’ve got no bloody idea where the asylum is anyway.
I just… I need a day where I’ve got a schedule packed full of things to do, where I can’t dwell on anything. I need a day where everyone’s fighting, where people might actually be calling me for a chat, maybe I could clean somebody’s house, or maybe somebody’s got laundry for me to fold and put away. Maybe there are some forms to fill out or new people to meet, and maybe if I’m really lucky, there’ll be lots of rainbows and perhaps even the odd unicorn shooting glitter out of its arse.
Otherwise, I just sit here, and I think of all the things we aren’t going to have… all the lost time we’ll never make up for. Now, I don’t have anyone to come home to every night. We’ll never buy a house together, and we’ll never build a life together. We’ll never even get the chance to start a family if we wanted one. I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve lost the person I could always count on to catch me when I fall. I’ve lost the person who always told me the truth, even when it wasn’t always what I wanted to hear.
Well, here I am! I’ve fallen! I’ve fallen, and there’s nobody here who can wade through all this mess and bullshit to pull me out. There’s nobody to hug at the end of the day, nobody to tell me everything’s going to be alright. You made me a better person, Muscles, and now I think that person’s gone. I don’t know where she went, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t see anything good or light in this place anymore.
You knew everything that made me who I was. You loved me exactly as I was. You pushed me to grow, but you still loved me for who I am. I craved acceptance and love my entire life. It was something I desperately needed, and for some people it’s so hard to find. I got so lucky with you, Dean.
The world is so cold and unfeeling. It’s taken from me the one person I could depend on.
A hotline to the afterlife wouldn’t be so bad. Nor would a day I could go without crying. At night, my eyes and face ache from the tears.
I miss you so bad, I’ve burnt a permanent hole in my chest.
I used to think dying of a broken heart was rubbish, but I see now how possible it really is.
Love,
Blondie