Is there joy in shattering? I’m hinting at a fundamental instinct humming at the core of all things that wants to come apart. Indeed, we revel in it. Why do people fuck each other with such wild abandon? Where do they go? What’s an orgasm if not a you that explodes?
I can’t help but think of you as your birthday approaches, less than a week away now. How old will you be, anyway? I only wish that I knew where you lived so I could thank you in person for the things you’ve given me. Perhaps a nice gunshot right to your head would be appropriate.
I can’t tell you the difference you’ve made in my life. It was clear to me from a very young age that I was not worth your love. Or your time. Or attention. And that has really shaped the person I am today. Speaking of shape, I weigh nearly 300 pounds. You should be proud.
It’s no great surprise then that my marriage is on the verge of collapse. I’m not attractive. Even if I were, why would any man love me?
So thanks again. I want you to know that I hate you and I wish you would die. Go fuck yourself.