Don’t worry, the right one won’t leave.
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Dear Gray poem,
Jan, cold. Afternoon, i’m too depressed thinking about my next suicidal try.
Darling,
I think the universe hates me.
But then again I know I’m too insignificant for the world to care enough to hate me.
Maybe it’s exactly because I am insignificant that it’s playing with me, fucking me up, just to prove the absurdity of my life, and to show me that there is, in fact, no depth for my insignificance.
Perhaps this is what’s making it harder.
For the fucker won’t let me go!
If I am as insignificant as it wishes to carve into my brain, it should just rid me of my life already.
Nothing would top that.
Showing me that ‘see, you are insignificant enough that taking you out of this world won’t change a damn thing.’
But it hates me enough it won’t give me that satisfaction, no matter how many times I try.
And darling, I fucking hate this universe.
I hate it as much as it hates me.
Before your coming, i was talking to myself;
-I know the meds are worsening your depression and—
=Please, don’t.
-Don’t what?
=Blame it on the meds.
-..
=You’d rather it was the meds. Because then it’s not your fault, not your responsibility, not something you’ve done—could’ve done, nor something you didn’t do; It’s not about you at all. It’s my fucked physical state and chemical makeup that’s at fault in here. You’d do anything to free yourself of the guilt of being responsible for what I am, what I’m becoming.
-I didn’t..
=No, no, it’s okay. I’m not blaming you. It’s just insulting that you’d blame it all on stupid reasons such as the meds only to justify you dismissing that there’s a problem, and that you ARE part of it. You’re blaming it on the meds while you’re well aware I know it’s partly your fault, yet I’m handling it on my own, not blaming you, not asking you to care or justify what you’re doing, just so I could save whatever respect we still have for each other.
-I don’t understand..
=What I mean is, if you can’t own up to what you’ve done to me, don’t fucking try to make up excuses for why it’s happened. I don’t need that. You don’t either, because we both know you’re aware they are fucked up lies. I wouldn’t want you lying to yourself. But if you do, then by all means, go ahead. Just don’t try to make me play that fucked up game of yours.
You were yelling about my silence, but i was about to cry.
I wished you hold my hand and hug me tightly.
I wished you don’t walk faster and leave me behind.
The moment you left, the moment i cried to home.
Maybe you find my handwritten letter, an apology to face depressed me today.
I know i am a hard one to be with.
Thank you for coffee and flowers.
Love, always.
The Prophet (ﷺ) said:
“Say: Oh Allah, forgive my sins, remove the rage in my heart, and protect me from the trials of misguidance.”
قُولِي اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِي ذَنْبِي وَأَذْهِبْ غَيْظَ قَلْبِي وَأَجِرْنِي مِنْ مُضِلاتِ الْفِتَنِ
(At-Tabarani - Sahih according to Ahmad Shakir)
