Ever since that day…I've known that this was coming. Ever since that first day when I met you, I knew that this would be what happened. I'd love you. You'd eventually love me. You'd die. I'd die inside. Heh, I always seem to get myself in these situations. Only difference is…this time, there's no way of setting things right.
Everyone notices how much different I am now. They don't have to ask what's wrong; they already know. Ever since that last day, I've been quiet, speaking only when completely and utterly necessary. I'm not loud anymore, not as exuberant or spontaneous. No one asks why. They already know. I probably wouldn't answer them, anyways…so they don't even bother.
The compound seems deader now that you're gone. It's so lifeless…or maybe that's me. Sometimes I can't honestly tell much of a difference between being awake and asleep. Both are restless, both are nightmarish realities. I can't sleep because of the dreams, I can't stay awake because of the weariness and depression…is that really the right word for it? It seems to fit…but maybe not. I honestly don't care much anymore…
I can't stand the sun anymore. That might be because I got so used to the darkness…after it happened, I wouldn't leave our- I mean, my- room for days. That still doesn't sound right. It seems like it should be our room still, but it isn't. No matter how much I wish that it were still true…it isn't. So what's the point of pretending?
…You did this. I know; it is a cruel thing to say. But, it's true. I'm so sorry for everything I did. You know I loved you, so, so much I loved you. I think I still do… If you were alive, you'd agree…but, I suppose I can find comfort in one thing; you died the way you always wanted…
…with a bang.