Words can't even explain

How bad I feel.
My whole world just crashed down on me.
She did it. She finally ran away.
Why am I crying so bad? Why do I feel like getting drunk out of my mind?


Why her? 


Oh my god. Oh, wait. THERE IS NO GOD. IF THERE WAS. MY BEST FRIEND WOULDN'T BE OFF DOING RANDOM SHIT. 


You have no idea how hard I'm crying. I feel worse then my mom has ever made me feel. All of that pointless crap we'd always talk about. Running away, cutting, drinking, smoking, going out. It's not right. 


I don't even know how im writing this. I can barley see what im typing. Who knew a girl who thought so little of herself could make me feel so incredibly bad. 


You think I never cared? Wasn't I the one who listened to the things your family put you through? If i didn't care. I wouldn't have called. I wouldn't have sent you those text. I'm not sick of you. I don't hate you.


Truth is, I'm scared. I'm more scared than i have been my entire life. I'm scared for Brenda. I'm scared for me. I'm scared this world is going to eat us up and spit us out. 


Brenda, 
Go ahead. Run away. Do drugs. Drink. Cut yourself. Starve yourself. Do anything you want. It's your life. I'm just sitting in the sidelines and I can't do anything about it. I'm looking at picture I have of us together and I'm guessing they were all lies. Lies that you made me suffer through. How long have you pretended to care about the crap my mom did to me? And, belive me, I CARED BRENDA. I STILL CARE. Call me whatever you want. 
I know you're angry. And, you probably hate me at the moment. And, that's okay. I'll just sit here and take it. Just.... forget me then. Forget I even existed. Forget we ever met. Forget we ever shared all those sad tales.


Forget everything, Brenda. 
I'll pretend it doesn't hurt me at all. When, On the inside, It's killing me. You're killing me and you don't give a crap.


But, alright. Two can play at that game.


-Margaret.