It was never easy.
The darkness brought those terrible memories back.
Not depression, the doctor told me.
But the thoughts kept coming back.
Did I want to be depressed?
Did I love myself a little more?
Did I think no one understood and so I had to be the way I was?
I am writing to get the maddening loud voices in my head out.
She called again.
But not about the money this time.
The father called. I am sure it was the money.
What am I, an ATM?
YOU NEVER CARED.
He used to come to that stop everyday, you know.
I dreamt of him the other day.
It was a colorful dream.
But I woke up sad again.
I lost him. To your ego.
Did you ever think of why I kept falling?
Did you ask why I cried?
No. Your ego stood bloated,
Too difficult for you to talk.
He. He loves me.
Not in a usual sort of way.
But he does.
I hope he was different.
Like how I would have loved him to be.
It seems less, you know.
I wanted more.
Maybe my end is near.
I keep thinking of what people would say about me, after I was gone.
Hope someone is reading this.
And I hope it is someone who loved me. Deeply.
My heart says, cry now.
Tears form a pool near my eyes. How easy.
I want you to know.
It was not easy.
First my childhood.
Then my love.
My adult self...naive, torn and cheated.
When I found love, I thought...
It seems less.
Madness, wasn't it?
My life.
My epitaph, my dear...
Must read...
"She lived in love and madness fuelled her spirit."
Feel relieved now.
Live. Love. Peace.
