I know only a past of sorrow and loss, one that has cost me everything, split my heart into pieces, caused me to suffer from more wounds than many men could take, and I now stand on the edge of the abyss, with only two choices, to turn and walk away, or to plunge into it, losing myself completely. Some would say I feel into the abyss long ago, and others say that I know noting but the abyss, yet I know, that I have yet to lose myself to freefall, that my life is yet to be set, I can still chose the path of life I desire. I am swaying on that edge, even as I write these words, and only two people are keeping me from falling down the path of hate and destruction, you being one of them, and the other being Mrs. Griffin. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think I can hold on to anything much longer; I have thought of suicide and other things often lately, and it seems that reason to live has disappeared from my life.

You do help me when times are hard, but the times are many, and I can’t expect you to be there for to many of them, or to listen too many of them, yet I wish I could talk to you more than I do, because these things get to me, and they cause me to hate, to feel no remorse. I hate myself, everyday, because I have to deal with the memories and emotions of a past that would horrify most others; I have to remember all my friends that have been killed, been lost, all the fighting and hurting that I’ve done, all the horrors I’ve seen, and each and every day that I existed in a living hell. I hate myself, because I can’t remember what love is, I haven’t had a friend in almost two and a half years, I’ve forgotten what life is, I’ve become addicted to drugs, I have nothing left, not even one ounce of love.

Until I met you, and now I know again what love is, but I’m afraid to lose it, because if I lose it, I lose everything that I have, and I don’t want to go back to who I was, the life I was living. Even with you, I still want to kill myself, because the emotions that overcome me, and memories that cause met o be dragged down, are so intense that it will kill me, and it does kill me, everyday. The pain that I feel on a day to day basis, is like a trillion dull knives stabbing and slashing my heart, all of them white hot and trying their hardest to kill me, and doing a dam good job of it. I wish I could tell you what I feel, really tell you, because then you would understand my sorrow, and my hell, and maybe you could see that my life would be better off ended, because living like this is like being killed every day I am forced to live, and that is a true hell, it’s what I live, what I know, all I have.