Ten years ago I already knew what was going to happen. I knew the ship was sinking, but I was still holding on to the helm. I could never let go. Now when I look back, my life looks like it never had a meaning. There never was anything I believed in, anything I would have wanted. No goals. There was just this one single broken dream.
I tried everything. From excessive amounts of alcohol to expensive whores to all the drugs man has ever created. I did everything to make myself forget. To forget everything. To forget her...
Nothing worked.
Everytime I opened up my eyes, even when my head was been torn apart by a hangover from hell or from withdrawal from heroin, I still woke up to the same old feeling. I craved her. My mind couldn't let go.
Now I'm in my mid-thirties, lying in a hospital bed, trying to write this one letter, even though my hands are shaking so hard it makes it near impossible to draw a straight line. I'm dying, but I don't feel anything. No pain, no feeling of loss. It might be that my life ended that night all those years ago.
I hurt you. I said things that I didn't mean so you would hate me. That way I wouldn't be in your way. I would have been a burden. It was the right thing to do. And it doesn't matter anymore. Still, there is this one final thing I wish to know before I die.
Do you still smile like the way you used to?