I hope you know what you did to me.
I hope you know how much pain you've caused.
And now my wounds are self inflicted, cuz you're not even around to hurt me anymore.
At this point I'm numb.
The only proof that I have that these past 3 months have been real is the countless pieces of paper in my trash can.
The notes, the pictures, the drawings, the CDs...
and our book...
remember that?
Yeah.
Someone better call the fire department quick cuz it's all gonna burn, just like my heart.
Oh, and by the way...
Happy anniversary.
I hope you're having as much fun with this as I am.