You, I doubt I will ever know how you truly felt about me, if anything at all. You are so good at telling people what they want to hear. How am I supposed to believe you ever cared? You never really acted like it anyway. You didn’t even want to marry me. Looking through our wedding photos I see that now more than ever. I can say that all the love I wasted on you has slowly turned to hate. I hate to think about you. I hate to miss you. I hate to want to be with you. I hate wanting to talk to you. I hate needing you. I hate needing your “love”. I hate it all. And now I am starting to hate YOU. In turn all this hate is making me ugly on the inside. I can’t breath. I can’t think. I don’t care about anything anymore. All I want to do is die. All I want to do it slice open my wrists. You will NEVER know the heartache you have caused me, NEVER! I can show you the pain that resides on the surface, on my wrist. But that is that, just the surface. I hate myself because of this “marriage”. I hate love because of this “relationship”. I’ll never be good enough for anyone. I wasn’t good enough for my heroin addict husband. How can I possibly be good enough for anyone else? You couldn’t even handle the past that I had when we first met how will anyone accept me with THIS past? I have had to give away two of my babies because of this. Now I have to give away the love of my life. Maybe I am just making myself hate you because it hurts too fucking much to love you. Maybe it’s easier for me to just get it over with and never have to see you again. This hurt runs deep in me. I will forever bear the scars from this. I know I’m not the person you want. I am sure you will have no problem finding your perfect little blonde molly Mormon girl. I have no doubt about that. And whatever. You’ll move on and I’ll be here forcing myself not to care. This isn’t supposed to make you feel guilty or like an attack. This is only everything that I feel. This is what is tearing me up on a day-to-day basis while you are off with your NA friends and meetings. I thought I would be all right. I was so wrong. Everyday I wake up and I hate that I did. Every thought I think I have to push away because they are of you and the fucked up “love” that we had. I have to force back tears ALL DAY LONG. I have to force myself NOT to kill myself everyday. I don’t know why anymore. What’s the point, right? I doubt EVERYTHING now. After we decided to get the divorce I was ok, for a minute. Then all of this came crashing down on me and I died. So this is it. THE END.