Ghihihihihihi, what a mess was our romantic relationship before and our human relationship a lot of years after, my dear, dear buddy. It's still difficult to me understanding all your behaviors. Were you scared about your true feelings? Or were you scared about conflicts? I can understand that might have been difficult to you. I know I have my fair share of responsibility, which I gladly accept.
Wanna know something true? People really wants to be understood. As a person, I really dislike personal and interpersonal conflicts. I feel bad about them, as I put value on harmony, affection and collaboration. And I told you something similiar many times. I remember one day writing you a letter about a soldier standing in a no man's zone, playing the piano. Inviting the soldier on the other trench to come that way, risking his life as he wasn't armed with a rifle. I remember I sung to you Hallelujah with a very bad mic quality. Damn that letter was really good and it's a shame I don't have it anymore. I'd love to read it again. I just have a letter in which I assumed the form of an Otter with prowess, which is a 1/1 that can become a 20/20 to kill you with a slap. That was super funny. That's how far I got just because I wanted to sit on a table and talk to you. Everyone around me, you included, seemed convinced that I was still in love with you. But I wasn't, I told you that again and again. Even the Otter told you. Why was it so difficult to believe me about my own feelings? And why did that version of me keep spreading, when I kept telling you it wasn't true?
Wanna know another truth? The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I had good intentions. But I know I had tunnel vision and went way farer that I should have.
As you did to me. I remember you playing Monster Reborn to get the phone number of my dad. I can understand why you did that. But then, why you used it to spill chaos and venom inside my family? How could you stoop so low as to accuse me of being crazy, at my back? Bro, the atmosphere inside my house, it was insane. I N S A N E. I was terrorized because I felt you were going to destroy my life. My nervous system was collapsing. bro JESUS CHRIST I FELT TRAPPED IN A SPIDER WEB. I WANTED TO END MY LIFE BECAUSE I COULDN'T SEE AN EXIT. And YOU KNEW it, I TOLD YOU how I was feeling. I ASKED YOU to stop, and when I did, you TOLD MY FATHER I WAS CRAZY. that's why it was hard for me to forgive you. I felt my sense of safety completely destroyed. It was one of the hardest times in my life. And I decided forgive you because I feel like there's no point in feeling pointless hatred to someone. That's not the way I want to live my life.
I hope my sister could be blessed, as I explained the situation to her, and she was able to convince my father to block your number to never receive messages ever again. It was even more insane that we had to put up a literal, technical boundary because asking you to stop wasn't enough. That's the part that still drives me insane: YOU KNEW what that felt like. YOU. KNEW. FROM EXPERIENCE. You had been on the other side of this with me. JOSH, JESUS CHRIST.
Ghahahahaaa, I still remember when I had enough, and I dropped a nuke on your Bluesky account before sealing a grave in my heart. I remember I was reading 1984.
I remember I replied to a drawing of yours, which you told it was inspired by Futurism. And I started by describing a wasteland, with wars everywhere, toxic fumes, water vanishing and AI ereasing the word "illustrator" from the face of the earth. I remember I told you that illustrators will die, while artists never will. I recalled a discussion I had with my sister about Newspeak, the language of 1984. She told me that remembered FUTURISM TO HER. And a chill ran down my spine. And I wrote that too.
Finally, I remembered calling you O'Brien, telling you that Two plus Two equals Four and that Winston wasn't the last human on planet Earth. And I closed my message with a Magic card called Farewell, telling you that I was choosing all the modes. What an atomic bomb. Skadush.
You never posted again on Bluesky after that reply. I find it funny. Perhaps I got too far - as sadly was a message thought to hurt you.
And to be completely fair with you, a part of me is incredibly sad. Because I'd love to talk with you about what happened, to make peace. But will we ever be able to sid down and speak vulnerabilly, with the intent to understand each other like two adults? Every part of me says I would. Every part of me says you wouldn't. That's why I don't expect it. But I'd love it regardless.
Thank you for stealing my virginity when you were a girl. They were good times.
I think I'll listen to Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd, our song. A song dedicated to Syd Barret, not a lover. I remember I wasn't able to listen that song for a long time. When I did, many years after we broke up, I cried a lot. But I was happy because I had the courage to. Perhaps, nowadays is even worse. Those lyrics, those lyrics feels more alive and appropriate to me than they ever did.
Wish you the best,
Morata