Not sure where this came from, sorry for extreme OOC-ness. The writing reminds me of Lemony Snicket.
Inspired by the following lyrics.
I can't stop, don't care if I lose,
Baby, you are the weapon I choose,
These wounds are self inflicted,
I'm going down in flames for you,
Baby, you are the weapon I choose,
These wounds are self inflicted,
One more thing I'm addicted to.
-Katy Perry – Self-Inflicted.
It was a cold evening in January. If, on this certain evening, you had been in a certain dark New York apartment, you would have seen a certain man. Had you seen this man, in this apartment, at a certain time you would have seen him writing a certain letter, a letter which would never be sent, a letter which would never be read by anyone else and would in later months be burned in a fit of rage and heartache.
To my dearest Ryo
Shit. I never thought this would happen. I gave up hoping years ago. It feels like a freefall from space without a parachute. I hate what you've turned me into. I've spent the past six months feeling like shit, all because of you, and I wouldn't ever give it up. I'm addicted to you. As if the cigarettes and the not-so-infrequent drinking session weren't enough. You have complete control over me and you have no idea. I know I'm not making it any easier for myself clinging like this. I think Drake and the others are worried about me, you didn't know me before so you wouldn't have noticed but this is probably the longest I've gone without sex for years, all for you. I don't even know why I'm doing it now, you don't like me, I'm sure I just annoy you but I can't get rid of this feeling. I want you and only you. I've never wanted to be with anyone so much before in my entire life. I want us to be together forever. Sometimes I see you looking at me like you feel sorry for me, you shouldn't, I brought this upon myself and I know that. I'm not going to give up, never. If I ever commit myself to anything I'll commit myself to this, while there's a chance I can have you I will work to take it. It's probably never going to happen, and if it takes all my life and it never happens, that's okay with me, It's worth it if it means I have a chance.
I love you
-Dee
If you were watching that certain man you would have seen him sitting at a desk for an hour. You would have seen an ashtray overflow with cigarette butts. You would have heard that certain man curse and watch him scribble out uncountable phrases deemed unworthy and still not be happy with the result. You would have seen him patch together a letter from the more acceptable of his previous scribbles. And if you had stayed there after he finished you would have heard him weeping. Weeping for the unknown, weeping for his impossible task, weeping for the everlasting commitment. Weeping for the realisation. There was no way out now.