P, you know you have really done a number on me. God it's like I can't even escape you, which makes no sense because you left. You were my best friend, and I loved you dearly. Maybe more than I should have. Fuck, you know, everything seems to spark a memory of you. Even my favorite new show. Ironically my favorite character, Sid, he reminds me so much of the you that I used to know. Every fucking bit. Tonight I snapped and cried for you again. God I wish I was as cold as you, not remembering, not caring, and certainly not hurting.

I'm scared of a lot of things right now. Myself, and everyone else. I don't want to leave the house when it isn't necessary because I am terrified of getting hurt again. I can't even admit things to myself anymore. Does that even make any sense? Well, either way it is the truth. I have isolated myself from the world, and even then there are cracks in the wall I built and things keep slipping through. Like you. Even though you moved away, I seem to see you every where and ti's driving me insane. Haven't you hurt me enough already? Because of you I don't want any one else near me, because there is absolutely nothing else left in me to break. The fight has all gone out of me and I'm hurting, terribly bad. You know how I live now? If you can even call it living. I have become a ghost of the girl I was, I read, and I watch shows, I live through things that aren't real. I go through the motions but even then, I'm not really into any of it. I hope you are happy where ever you are, and I hope that maybe there is some chance you still remember me, if the drugs haven't taken memories from you to along with decency. And if they haven't I hope you have each thing, and I hope you're ashamed of yourself, of what you've done. Maybe it isn't fair I blame you, but it isn't just you and we both know that. You just happened to be the final pebble that made it all collapse.