Dear Wisdom,
I need to be loud and clear. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I can't. I asked you to wait…I asked you to trust my judgement….I asked you to trust in our love. You didn't…
Butch stops writing for a moment, lounging back in the black leather chair. He lowers his head, tapping the end of the pen against his chin. His mind is swimming in an ocean of thoughts and emotions, swelling like a mental tsunami against his head. He begins to write once more.
A world without you is a world I could only wish for.
A world with out is a world I’d woul gladly die for.
You’ve taken everything from me….
Poison and despise lay in rampant wake in the shadows you have created. You've left me to drown in an endless tide of apathy
You disgust me, living under the guise of a true murderer. But alas, your cyanide lips can no longer rip us apart. Now there’ll be no forgiveness.
You wouldn't know love if it crushed your chest. You never showed any affection to anything but your ego…A tragedy of errors at the best of times….You are everything that's wrong with me….You are everything that I despise….You are everything I dreamed would die…You are everything that fades away and slowly dies…
Butch can’t even bring himself to finish the letter, merely casting the pen aside nonchalantly, leaving the letter on the desk as he pours himself another glass of whiskey. Suddenly, the intercom in his room disturbs him from his thoughts.
(Voice): Sir, Lord Senester requests your presence in the North Tower.
Butch chews slightly nervously on his bottom lip before lifting the glass and taking one long drink. He presses the button on the intercom to reply.
(Butch): Inform him that I’ll be right up.
Butch gets up from his seat, the unfinished letter still lying on the table as he leaves the room, the scene ultimately fading to black.
Message Thread
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