A drabble…An insight to Mello's mind.
I wish you'd understand, Matt…
I look at you from across the room. I look at whatever's sitting next to me. A few books on a table. I turn around, focusing my attention at you, rather than the window which gives me a wide view of the outside.
"You never listen." I say calmly. "You never realize…what my life has been like!" I grab one of the books and whip it across the room at you.
"I'm sorry." You say.
"Sorry!?" I scream. "Sorry's not good enough!" I pick up another book, whipping it again at you. You just take the hit.
"Sorry." You say again.
"SORRY?!" I scream once more. "You have no idea what my life has been like!" I grab the final book throwing it once more.
"I'm sorry." You're a broken record.
"You have no fucking idea!" I roar. "I've spent my whole life alone!" I want to beat you senseless sometimes. "You haven't! You've had friends and people to turn to! I haven't! I've had no one!"
"Sorry." You're so clueless.
Sorry isn't good enough.
Sorry will never change a thing.
Sorry won't change the past.
Sorry won't make my life better.
You're so clueless sometimes. Sorry is never the word I want to hear. I hate that word. Sorry…it's such a pathetic word. It's so empty. No one ever really means it. You just take the shit I scream at you.
Just leave already.
I deserve it.
I take an inch, I want a fuckin' mile.
I get one ounce of happiness…I want it all.
If I get you, I want your life too.
Well, you know what?
I'll never have your life.
Because your life was perfect without me.
You had a great life before I came along.
I'm just unwanted stress.
Why haven't you fuckin' left?
I treat you like shit.
Because you have everything I want.
Sometimes, I wish you'd just disappear.
I deserve nothing.
I'm alone in this world.
I always have been.
And I always will.
I wish I never met you sometimes.
I think I'd be happier.
Without you.
Why can't you understand.
I hate hearing about your life sometimes.
Because you're so fucking happy without me.
You just bring up my unhappiness.
You never mean to…
But you do.
You bring up everything I wish I had.
And I become depressed.
Suicidal.
I start doing drugs.
I have an addiction.
You're the reason I want to kill myself sometimes.
"Sorry." You say once more.
I shake my head.
"No you're not." I reply.
You try to say something.
"You can't be sorry for something you have no power over."
I wish you did have that power.
Because when you're powerless…
You can't do anything to fix me.
I'm broken.
Don't you get that?
Living a life with no one there for you…
Except for people you don't know or care about…
They just don't want to feel responsible for someone's suicide.
If I kill myself…
Don't think you did it.
Just realize, it's envy.
You have friends, people who care about you.
I don't.
I wish you would understand that.
And respect it.