The day that they started to compare me to my brother...is the day I had enough.
The day that they smother my brother with praises and compliments...is the day I had enough.
The day that they showered my brother with attention, love and care...is the day I had enough.
The day that my boyfriend cheated on me with my brother...is the day I had enough.
The day that Thailand smiled kindly and warmly at me...is the day that makes it all better.
But I have enough. I'm tired, sick, miserable of hearing the same thing over and over and over. Because after all—I'm nothing, nothing at all—nothing compared to my brother. I'm the nuisance... I'm the one who stains the picture—the single black sheep in a flock of white—the anomaly, the unnecessary and unneeded one. Because after all...the anomaly, unnecessary and unneeded is just...nothing.
But I'm tired—tired of being second best, tired of making place for someone else—but above all—I'm tired of life. Tired of living, breathing and pretending that everything is okay and that what they said about me, didn't hurt me. But it hurts, it does, it's like, someone—some unknown and unnatural force is pulling at my heartstrings in the most painful way, that my heart is tearing apart in to little pieces in an most agonisingly slow and most torturous manner. But it hurts more too hear that coming from your own family—your own flesh and blood.
Another stab in my heart, knives in my heart and words echoing through my head, needles in my head.
Another scar to add in the collection...
This is the day that I will carry and fulfill their wish. Nobody can stop me, even if they begs the differ, even how much they plead, but it will ring the same in my ears. Lies. Nothing but lies and shallow words—after all—my whole life is a lie—that's why I know how to lie through the day—through my entire immortality.
I hope when I'm gone, they would be happier. Would the world be better off without me? Would they celebrate my death? Dancing on my grave? Making a grand party that would last for days and speak over it years later?
But I hope that Thailand would remember me—and honestly I feel bad for her, I promised to stay alive—and yet—I couldn't—it was too much—too much for me to bear. I just can't—couldn't.
I'm sorry for that—I really am. Please forgive me, please. It would be another stab to my heart if you don't.
I hope—I wish, that I finally would have the peace I seek. The peace I searched for my entire life.
Please don't forget me when I'm gone, please remember me... Love me and care for me like you always did...
Please that is my last wish—and my only one...
Yours truly,
Italy Romano, Southern part of Italy and the two kingdoms of Italy; Naples and Sicily
Lovino Angelo Vargas; the angel of destruction
A.N.:
This is a two-shot, you got my warning on my profile, please check that out first before you read the second chapter, there is—would be—a lot screaming, shrieking and yelling and cursing to.
If you can't stand the way someone would be yelling at the nation for accusing them for breaking our dear beloved Lovino, than I suggest you wouldn't read, it's extremely sad.
Oh, another thing. I wanted to thank my super freakishly awesome friend The Forgotten Traveller or Elli to read it first and beta it for me. You should check her out and her story "Safe haven", it's super cool and don't forget the compliment the author (Elli) who wrote it.
Also another thing. I'm working with her on her story "Off kilter", I suggest you read it first and you're like thinking, "Man this is awesome, I wish that I could work on it too!" The you can, just pm her, okay?
Thats all, hope you enjoy, but this is the farthest thing from enjoying, so yeah... Until next time?
-JessicaStarCrossed over and out~
(ps: thanks for staying with me ^^)