You're an idiot.

Why, you ask?

You're an idiot for not coming home with me.

You're an idiot for not calling me.

You're an idiot for making me worry so much.

You're an idiot for forcing my mind fill with anger and rage in less than a second.

I hate you, I really do.

You're an idiot for leaving me all alone.

You're an idiot for making me cry.

You're an idiot for all the blood I lost.

The saddest thing about it, I have to live with it.

I have to love you, or my heart fails to work.

I have to.

I have to do everything you want me to do.

If not, you go on a fit.

I'm sick of all the promises and I'm sick of all the worries.

Sometimes I pray for us to last.

Sometimes I pray for you to never get hurt.

But in the end, why is it me getting shot at?

Why do I have to cry?

Why do I have to die?

Why do I love you so much?

Those were my thoughts of April 7.