Dear X,
I hate you.
But I feel like those words aren't enough. Even if it's one of the only things I could come up with to describe this feeling I've kept inside, the only real words in existence to show how much I loathe you.
This feeling, it's been bubbling, toiling, churning for years on end. Yes, I can feel the anger radiating off my skin, pulsating through my veins and boiling my blood, torturing and tearing apart my mind. I can feel it, all of it, coming down on me like a terrible rainstorm: the words I want to say to you.
I hate you.
I can't stand you.
Where to even begin: physical appearance, skills, intelligence, charisma? Maybe personality or even aspirations and dreams? But alas, there's no place to begin, because everything's the beginning.
You're too short, too fat, too ugly. You're not light enough. No one is ever going to want you. You're too indecisive, never knowing what you really want. You always say the wrong things and nothing ever comes out right. You walk funny, talk funny, and even laugh weirdly. Nothing you ever do is right. So why do you even bother trying when you know you're going to fail. They're all going to laugh at you. It's embarrassing, you're embarrassing.
You're a waste of space.
You were born for nothing. You hold no special place in society. You have nothing to gain from living and no one will miss you when you're gone. But you can't die. You can't kill yourself. To stain the earth with your unworthy blood will surely make Gaia cry out in pain.
I hate how imperfect you are. And I've been waiting to say this to you for a long while. But even as I find the time and get the opportunity, I can't. I can't say it, not anymore. So I'll keep everything I want to say to you from you. Because for the same reasons I hate you, I also pity you. Why?
Why am I even here?
Because you've already begun saying it to yourself.
Sincerely,
Your Conscience
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Gaia- personification of the Earth and one of the Greek gods.
X- Unknown
ns 15.158.61.20da2
