My Dearest Xxxxxxxx,
I refrained from wallowing in self pity today. I put the alcohol aside, cigarettes in the bin. Today I made it about me, not You.
All I’ve done is hurt myself, over and over. I tortured myself in every way possible. I couldn’t eat or sleep, laugh or smile.
I cried, I hurt and it ate me up inside, every single day. I can’t recognise the man that I’ve become. No one can. I’ve neglected everything that is important to me. The people who actually care, the people who bother.
I imagined love differently, maybe I never truly understood. Maybe it’s not just smiles and cuddles, placing my arms around you, whispering in your ears. Maybe it’s not about looking into your eyes as if the gods themselves had put all of heaven into them.
Maybe I’ve got it all wrong. But the one thing I did right. You.