016 : dead love letters

to whomever this may concern,

this is the final letter I will ever write.

(I don't know why I've been writing letters, but they've sort of become a routine now).

I want to say goodbye, even if I don't know who you are or why I feel this uncontrollable urge to say goodbye.

So, goodbye.

Be happy because maybe, in a different life, our hands are touching, skimming one another, and I am yours and you are mine. I like to assume we were in love, it makes me feel less lonely and hopeless and empty. Emptiness is a familiar feeling here when you're all on your own with only a pen and paper to keep you company.

(I can barely read my own handwriting anymore)

Goodbye to whoever this letter is to. I hope that you find your happiness with someone who isn't as stupid as me: who doesn't act out of anger and drive themselves into oblivion. Hold onto them like I should've done to you and never let them go.

Be happy without me.

It's been too long.

from, the writer of these thoughts, the boy who died out of anger and love

-
THE END
-