For the Last Time.

Sometimes you can't hold onto things forever.

Especially when your holding on hurts someone else, repeatedly and relentlessly.

It's past the time for me to stop thinking about myself and start thinking about the other people around me. I've been far too selfish for far too long, and it's caused me to cause a massive amount of misery, pain, turmoil, and grief to someone who doesn't deserve it. Well, I've decided that I'm not going to do it anymore. Again. Ever.

I've been immature, thoughtless, cold, abrasive, selfish, and wrong. About everything. And it's all simply because things weren't going my way.

And, to be honest, they probably never will.

As it turns out, I'm the solitary reason that the daily fights ensued. I was always the one starting things, because I just couldn't simply be happy. No, I had to always find something to complain about. Something to be stupidly angry over. Even if I had to pull something out from a day, week, or month ago. I just couldn't be happy. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I just couldn't be a good partner.

I couldn't find hobbies that were acceptable. I couldn't make friends that were acceptable. My activities and friends were the source of multitudes of arguments. And then I turned around and couldn't be accepting of his hobbies and friends, and his were better than mine. I let my jealousy and lack of ability to make anything decent out of myself overtake my common sense, and I became hostile and cruel.

I know now that there's a reason he told me that he had more fun with his friends than he did with me... and it's because anyone would be more fun than a selfish, self-centered brat like me. I used to be angry at the statement, but now I see its truthfulness and validity staring me square in the face. And I can't be angry at honesty.

The whole thing boils down to me being in the wrong no matter which way I turned. I was always slamming things in his face, rubbing his nose in mistakes he never made, shoving statements and accusations down his throat. Everything I said I wouldn't do to someone. It's a wonder to me that he didn't just tell me to fuck off and die in a fire, because I would've told someone abusing me so harshly to do just that. And deep down I know I should do just that. Go fuck off and die in a fire.

I sometimes wish I could do just that. Lay in my room and be engulfed in flames. God knows I'd deserve every ounce of pain that I felt. Or maybe I should force myself to face my fear of drowning. I'd deserve every bit of fear that rushed through my body. I should be beaten within an inch of my life, so that maybe I'd suffer enough brain damage that I'd never be able to think clearly enough to start a fight ever again. So that all I could do was lay in a bed, wasting space like the horrible failure I truly am. Wasting away in a hospital somewhere, locked away from the world so that I can't cause anymore grief. If only I could.

The fact of the matter is, I am incapable of love. I'm incapable of being a good, loving, caring, selfless partner. I'm selfish and refused to give up the source of all the fighting. I allowed my greed to overwhelm me. I thought I could have it all, and now I'm having to see that I can't. And I won't.

So I apologize to him, for all of the turmoil I put him through. All the times I hurt him. All the times I brought him near or to tears. All the times that I verbally assaulted him unprovoked and just because I felt like it. I apologize to him that I was so jealous and greedy for his time that I couldn't make myself like a single thing he did that didn't or couldn't involve me. I knew that if I ever were to produce an ultimatum: pick your hobbies or pick me... I wouldn't be chosen. Well now I'm going to make it so that he doesn't have to choose. He can keep his hobbies, his friends, and his life. He deserves to. He deserves to be happy.

He'll never have to worry about me starting another fight with him for no reason. He'll never have to fear me again. He'll never have to waste his time, energy, and life on me ever again. He can have all the fun he wants and rightfully deserves, and he'll never have to be burdened with the thought that I'm lurking in the shadows, waiting to ruin his day. Because that's all I ever did. His friends won't have to hear about the constant abuse he suffered at the hands of the person who was supposed to protect and respect him. They won't have to hate me -- they can laugh about how stupid I was instead. They can all celebrate my exit from the picture.

I've ruined his life for the last time.