Disclaimer: If I owned Dead Poet's Society, not only would I be very rich, I'd also be rather old.
Okay, warning here and now, a bit of swearing in this story, but its just how it wrote itself.
Sometimes, I really freaking hate you. I had counted on you, god dammit Neil! I had loved you. You were everything to me, and you were the only one that I had been determined to make a difference for. You gave me a voice, and you gave me a reason to live, and then you just took it all away like it meant nothing. Why, Neil? Why the fuck would you think that something like that is okay, for even a moment? Why were you so goddamn selfish? Why couldn't you simply be happy knowing that I loved you? Why did you have to care so much, to hurt so much. Why couldn't you tell me?
I could have helped you, you know. Maybe I'm not the loudest of our group, or the smartest, or even the most romantic, but I would have helped Neil, because I was the one that loved you the most. And that's what really mattered. At least, it did when you were still here. Now I'm not so sure that it mattered at all, to anyone except me. Maybe I didn't even care enough about you, because I didn't know that you were hurting, I thought you were perfect, untouchable even by the reach of your father, and I spent so long wondering why someone like you would choose someone like me. Now I know that you're just like the rest of us.
I hate you for that, Neil. For so long, you were all that was good about me in my world, and you were what I relied on to get through the day, but you were nothing like what I thought you were. How many times did you tell me that I had to get a little agitated, that I had to care a little, when, at the end of the day, you only got more pathetic, and more desperate, and not very agitated at all. Maybe if you'd gotten a little agitated, you'd still be here, and you'd still be mine. Maybe everything would still be perfect. Hell, even if you weren't still at Welton, everything would still be perfect so long as you were alive.
But you left, didn't you? And now everything's stupid, and fucked up, and everything just hurts, so much. Some days, I wish I was as desperate as you were, because then I could just make the pain stop. I hate myself, and you even more for those days. Most of all, Neil, I hate you, because you aren't here to see what I've become. True, I got lucky, and true, I ran away for a while, money burning in my pocket and desperate to be spent. True, I slept around, probably more than I ever should have, but I was fucking alive, Neil, and I'm more and more alive by the day. The only thing that's dragging me down is you, Neil, my hatred for you, and the fact that I can't stop fucking loving you.
And that sucks, you know? That no matter who I meet, no matter what I fucking do, you'll always come first. It means that Cindy – someone that I like very much, someone that I maybe even love a little bit – not only can't compare to you, but can't even know why. It means that because of you, Neil, I'm never going to be whole, again. Fuck I hate you.
Fuck I want you back.
So, what do we think? Like Cameron, it has the possibility of becoming longer, if Todd keeps talking to me.