Dear Susan,

I regret a lot of things that I did in my life. I regret the fact that I was a pain in the ass for my parents. I regret that I began with taking heroin. I regret that I met my so called mates, except Spud because he's a nice guy, I regret that I fucked up my whole life and I regret that I steal and betray people.
But I've never regret that I met you. The moments when I was with you, were the best of my life. When I was with you, I didn't need to think about my life, I only thought about you. And deep in my heart I knew it wasn't OK what I did to you. But I just couldn't tell you the truth. I was too scared to lose you. I'm a sissy and I know it. But from the moment you begin to lie, you can't stop it anymore. And you were so nice to me. In the bus, I was shaking because I didn't had a shot in a couple of hours, but you thought I was nervous so you let me sit down. When I look back, I can't believe you even stayed that long with me. And I can't believe I thought that drugs were more important than you. Because they aren't. But I screwed up. And I can understand that you don't want a relationship with anyone like me. But I can't live like this. I sat there in the pub, with all my mates and a lot of other people. But I felt so alone. I felt so alone, because the one person in the world that I wanted to be there, wasn't there. From the moment I met you, I knew what love was. I had girlfriends before, but they weren't as serious as you. And the time we made love, it was the best of my life. I was truly happy. And offcourse you had your bad habits, but a lot of them were cute. Like how you got angry when the computer didn't work. But it's over and I can't live like this. I used to listen to Lou Reed a lot. And everytime I heard his song, Perfect Day, I thought about you. And when I slowly go away from this world, I will listen to it, and think about you, and die happily. I don't want you to feel guilty, this was my own decision. I will always think about you.

Love, your Mark.

When I was reading it, I couldn't believe that it was Mark who wrote it. It was another side of Mark that wrote this letter. I cried because it was beautiful, he said all those things he could never say before. And I cried because I lost him. I gave the letter to Mark's mum and said she could read it here. I went to the kitchen and made 2 cups of tea. When I came back in the livingroom, Mark's mum read the letter and started to cry too. She said I was the only serious girlfriend of Mark and when Mark and I went to their home, she could see that we loved each other. She said she hated the drugs and that Mark wasn't the same as before the drugs. Than she sat down and began to tell me things about when Mark was little, and I really liked to hear that because Mark never talked about it. She told me stories about him and his dad, that he used to hit his dad when he began to use drugs. And I felt so stupid for thinking that his father was the aggressive one. But his mum kept on telling nice stories about how he was before the drugs took over his life. We sat there for almost 2 hours. His mum had to go. She said I could go to Mark the next day and she thanked me for the tea. And then she left. And I went to my cd-collection and got Lou Reed into my player. And repeating Perfect Day over and over, and smoking some cigarettes, I thought about Mark.

It was the next day. I couldn't eat anything. I woke up at 5 in the morning. I put some clothes on and went to the hospital. The woman behind the desk was asking a lot of things to me. No, I don't have an appointment, I just want to see Mark for fuck's sake!! I had to calm down a bit, I was so fucking nervous. I tried to calm down and answer all the questions that the women asked me. She said I was much too early but I could see him for this time. I got to this room, and I had to put a mask, gloves, pants, shirt and a hairthingy on. I looked so fucking stupid, but the nurse told me it was because Mark could easily get infected. So I did what was told to me. And I walked in a small corridor. And there I saw room 2. I opened the door and saw a lot of big machines. And then I saw a thin, small guy lying on the bed. Was that my Mark? He looked awful. I walked slowly to the bed and I got a panic reaction. This wasn't my Mark. I sat down on a chair at the bed and carefully got his hand. And I started to cry. I was so tired and shocked when I saw him lying like this. I wasn't even sure if he was alive. He didn't move. I laid my head on the bed and slowly fell asleep.