Monday, April 25, 2011 - :

I know you hate me. You hate me like hell. You hate me for holding on. You hate me for disturbing you. You hate me for disturbing your girlfriend. You hate me for loving you too much. You hate me for being a busybody. You hate me for everything I've done. You hate me so much that you'd want to kill me, which you can as long as I don't kill myself first. My life revolves around hatred after all. Hatred and neglect.

I'm not going to write about how much I've loved you and all that crap, since it's crap to you and you've heard enough of that from me. I'm paying the price for everything that has happened. I'm paying the price for letting you be my first, my last, my only. One more achievement you can add to your list. I know the reason why I met you, and I'm glad that I know the reason. Regret is not a word in my dictionary after all, and hence I don't regret anything. I only wish things were better. But this is hitsuzen. Things were meant to happen this way.

This was just some wonderful delusion on my part. At least once I'm dead, this dream would end. It has been a while since I've dreamt of you. But the last dream I had was the most vivid one. To be able to feel your warmth in my dream, it was extreamly comforting. But that dream, is a mix of both pleasure and pain. Dreams can become a reality, but not this dream. If you've read the letter I wrote which was enclosed in your birthday present, you'd know what my desire was. A selfish desire which was once so close, but one which I let slip away. A desire which can never be mine.

I never practise what I preach. I tell you no never give up, never lose hope, keep hanging on. But I have chosen to give up. You have everything, I have nothing. What I used to have I've lost. Enjoy everything you have. Get married, start a family, be a good father. Don't let your child become like me, a victim of neglect since young. Neglect which has driven me crazy.

Everything we do comes from the desire of being important. You can say that I'm writing this because of this desire to be important. You can choose to think any way you want. I have no power or right to stop you. I am glad to have known you. And the memories I've shared with you I'll bring with me to hell. If I knew that last Tuesday would be the last time I'd ever see you, I'd have said a proper good bye. I'm not asking for a parting girft from you, because I know you won't give me any anyway. I don't even know how long I'll remain alive. I guess the next time I meet you, I'll meet you in hell.

Until then. Never give up, never lose hope. Please keep hanging on.

And if I survive death for the third time, all I'll say is that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

||あなたの怨み、晴らします。|| [10:07 AM]*

Tsugumi Risetsu

Sees Ichihara Yuuko as an extremely important person in her life.

This is my blog and I write what I want. Under the Internation Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, there's something known as "Individual freedom of belief, speech, association, freedom of press, right to hold assembly." That's under the human rights law

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