No matter how much I tried, his face was always there; staring straight through me, through all of the lies and betrayals. My attempts to be mad at him are quickly scrubbed away by my guilt, so I take the glares and soul shattering words that he says. There's nothing else I can do.
Some people tell me that he will get over it, that he will forgive me and move on. But how can I expect him to? I took his love like the selfish being I am, and without a hint of shame or remorse I shoved it behind everything else and ran into someone else's arms. Those cold, hard arms of a monster; though that never crossed my mind then. Even if I do by some miracle gain his forgiveness, I will never be able to forgive myself.
But I can't sit here, wallowing in my own self pity, of which I have much of. So I run. I run and run, leaving everyone behind. All that I had loved and cherished. Because that doesn't matter to me anymore. As long as his deep, accusing eyes are gone, then nothing else matters.
But they dont go.
That's how I end up back in Dublin. Back where my life was shattered, and it was entirely my fault. I had always been one to go to the extremes, and to many this would be one of those times. But, lying in a pool of crimson blood that pores from my wrists, I know that I am saving my own humanity. He'll finally let me have my piece, giving my eternity to rest in a calm slumber. Now that is the only thing that matters.
As my last thoughts scatter, only one word is left.
Fletcher
Maybe he won't give me peace after all.
