Letters.

Dear Love,

Fuck you. You’re just a waste of an emotion and are becoming nothing but a
huge joke. I don’t even know why I bother trying to search you out if
you’re just gonna keep leading me down a road of emptiness. It’s like once
I think I find you, it’s really Rejection with a mask on in the form of
you. Do you not want me to find you? Is that it? What the fuck did I ever
do to you? Nothing. I don’t need you. I’m getting to the point that I don’t
even want you. You’re wasting my time and effort and it’s pissing me off.
Why don’t you go fuck with someone else’s head and let me sneak up on you,
for once? Oh wait, that’s right. You’ll just send your good buddy Rejection
in your place, YET AGAIN, because you’re holding some kind of grudge
against me for no reason at all. And don’t you make up any stupid reasons
as to why I can’t have you either. Laugh now, die later. I hope you really
do. I know that will happen with me too, but seeing you die first would
satisfy me very, very much. And you know why? Unlike you and most of the
world, I’m real. Real over fake and phony any day of the week. And you
could say it’s my loss, but guess what? It’s not. I don’t ever take a loss.
It’s your loss because I hope you can find someone else to bother, even
though I know a lot of the world, as fake as it is, won’t want to deal with
your bullshit either. Oh, and one more thing. I’m fucking done with you.
Bye.

Dear Heart,

I’m sorry you keep getting broken. It’s not your fault. It’s Love’s fault.
It keeps sneaking by me and it keeps coming and breaking you before I even
know what’s going on. I really don’t want to get to the point of locking
you away for good and throwing away the key. Trust me, I don’t. It just
seems like that’s the only way I can keep you from getting broken again.
You’re good. I see it in you. It’s just like I was telling Love, most of
the world is fake and doesn’t want to see that. All they care about anymore
are movie star looks and money. They don’t care about you. And believe me,
you know me. I’m not selling out to Love and change myself. I already told
it to fuck off, and how will that make me look if I do that? I both want
and need what’s real, but it’s becoming too hard to find nowadays, and all
I’ve seen are fakes who come in and fuck with you, then break you, and for
that, I am sorry. I can feel you getting harder and colder, and I don’t
like it.

Dear Feelings,

I know I don’t claim you at all, and sometimes Heart too, but the truth is,
you’re both with me no matter what, and I can’t get rid of either of you
without getting rid of the other as well. I might as well just live with
that fact. It just sucks because every time Heart gets broken by Love, I
feel you hurting too, so it’s like I have a double dose of pain. I know
you’re stronger than Heart is (no offense) and I can sense it too, but it’s
like Love is the schoolyard bully and the three of us are the nerds that it
likes to pick on. If you haven’t noticed, I took a stand against it and I
hope it gets the message. I really am sorry that I haven’t acknowledged you
at all, but I still have you no matter what.

Dear World,

What the fuck is your problem? I remember when you used to be real, and
cool as fuck, but now look at you. It seems like you’ve been taken over by
fakes and phonies. I don’t like it. I know you’re better than this. I bet
this was the work of Love to torment good people like me. Don’t sell out on
me. And if you’re gonna stay this way, just know one thing. I’m not gonna
change. I’m staying true to myself and if you don’t like that, then it’s
your problem.

Dear Hate,

Just because I told Love to fuck off earlier, it doesn’t mean I’m gonna let
Heart or Feelings consume you. They’re already fragile enough from you
working with Love and Rejection to bring me to this point. I never thought
I’d get to this point, but it seems like World has let that happen. So join
your buddy Love and fuck off.

To whom this may concern,

I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I don’t get a chance. I’m sorry
I’m not ”hot” enough. I’m sorry I don’t have the perfect body, movie star
good looks, a car with bells and whistles, or loads of money. I’m sorry I
care. But most of all, I’m sorry that I’m real and that I won’t change for
anybody.

P.S. I’m sorry that you’ve decided to make me an option when I made you a
priority, but hey, it’s your loss, not mine.