Dear, 

I tried to kill myself last week. Funny thing, you didn’t cross my mind, well, maybe, for a moment. Or perhaps it is safe to say, your words crossed my mind. 

“I don’t care to talk shit about you.” “You’re pathetic.” “You’re like your mum. You’re like your grandmother.” “I hate you.” “I cannot wait to leave this fucking state so that I don’t have to look at your face anymore.” 

You were so happy to get me out of your life. I thought everyone else felt the same. I figured I could do them the favor of departing myself from their lives. 

Unfortunately, I did not succeed. Here I am, alive and well. David made it clear, that he did not feel the same.

Sincerely, 

I saw you yesterday. I was making a collage out of an old art book when Bridgette pointed you out. I quietly and quickly arose from my seat and walked over to the bathroom. I took a few quick breaths and walked back out. I gave you a hug, though you didn’t seem as though you wanted me anywhere near you, and I took my seat. I did not give you a second glance. The butterflies are dead and you are nothing more than the previous chapter in my life.

I did not need you before.
I do not need you now.