I bet it drives you crazy when you see photos of them together. I bet I think about it more than you do. Maybe we think about it the same amount. Your thoughts are so loud I can’t hear your mouth.
You set us up for this. You and your fan base. You refused to step in front of them when they aimed their guns at me. You watched while I fell to the ground, bleeding. You smiled at me and asked what could be wrong? As if you expected me to laugh along with the joke.
When the dust settled you made me pick up the pieces. How dare I let you control my fate while holding the weight of my world on my conscience. There was no reconciliation, only blame and finger-pointing. Why was I the only one that took responsibility? You watched them try to murder me and then you expected me to apologize?! Where is the accountability? You made a fool of me.
Not one of them, not a single mother-fucking one of them has ever apologized to me. They’ve never acknowledged I turned out to be right. Turns out it wasn’t insecurity, I could just see things the rest of you willingly ignored. And you’re fine with it. And you expect me to be fine with it. You don’t believe in God but you want me to be God-like; all forgiving.
This neverending conversation in my head isn’t my fault. It’s yours. This was the precedent you set. I’ve been fighting it every day for you since the day I met you. Because in spite of it all, God only knows what I’d be without you. But you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.
I want retribution that will never be given. Even if I got what I wanted, it’s too late to make a difference. They’re too busy to bother reading this. And even if they did, do you think they’d know it was about them? Maybe, because their egos are that big. Maybe not, because their egos are that big.
So now you swipe through thumbnails while you tell me you love me. But you’re not sorry. There’s no shame or remorse in your demeanor. It drives you crazy to see them together. The jealousy oozes off you like the ectoplasm of a lost soul. I feel guilty for judging you for it.
Your love is for them and my love is for you. I’m not your emotional battery. Soon you’ll expect me to continue to apologize. Soon you will be angry because I will refuse. Because I will no longer concede to standing idly by like a target at a carnival game.
I know what this looks like. It looks like an angry letter. But no, no I’m not upset. No, I’m not angry. What I am, is sad, and disappointed. Because given every opportunity you’ve had to stand up you choose to remain seated. You’ve relied on me to carry you the whole way. I’m so tired now my wounds can’t heal. I can no longer carry you.
Choosing apathy so others will love you, that’s your choice. I guess ignorance really is bliss. Your Facade has protected you this long, why not keep it up? If you can’t face yourself that’s your problem. When things go wrong you just pretend the past isn’t real. I’m not here to spoon feed you the answers. I’ll no longer take responsibility for mistakes that do not belong to me.
If it’s true, if we really do the most harm to the ones we care for the most, then your love for me is endless. Real love apparently isn’t in one’s own sacrifice, it’s accepting another’s sacrifice in your stead.