Guilt TO Love

Words-1

My dearest Uncle Ben,

I don't know where to start anymore. Writing never felt this challenging to me but today I am out of words and a few words assertively roaming in my mind it feels too tough to put them together maybe because this is my last words to you and I have so much to say but I just can't put my feeling into words today. Some say suicide is a cry for help. When you get to the point of breaking. When your soul is physically shaking, within your hollow skin. You have the pressure of the word and no one or nothing is listening to what's going on in your mind. These thoughts of unkindness are shattering my positive thinking. When you are growing, when you are sinking. And no one or nothing knows what you are truly thinking. Because you sit there with a smile all the while suffocating, your bones are been slowly crushed into ashes into dust, like you never existed. I am dying slowly, I have been exhausted mentally and emotionally a lot of time ago but now I am drained physically too and you all looked at me endlessly like I could sprinkle life into freshly rooted seeds, like a timeless flow of water, where no poison can breed. Yet no one ever saw the implanted seeds that I used to feed myself. The over-worrying of everyday things that were eating at my health. The darkness crept in, it stopped me from talking, it shut me out from myself. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to drag my thoughts into the light. I wanted someone, anyone to tell me I'd be alright. I was a prisoner to fear, too afraid to speak. Don't want to listen to other people's criticism, branding me weak.

I am certain I am going mad again. I feel I can't go through another of these terrible times and I shan't recover this time. I recently begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate so I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I think I could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight it any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life,  that without me you could work, and you will I know. Feels like I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness in my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good.

Uncle, this isn't anyone's fault so try not to blame yourselves or anybody else. This is my own decision. I will try to make everything as pleasant and quick as possible. I hope the upcoming brutal scene doesn't burn on you because I don't want to leave trauma on you or anybody but maybe now I have gone too far to care anymore. I am just sick of being a good guy and sick of no one caring about how I am or how I feel. I am not worth it and I know that I don't deserve anything good because I am shit. Sometimes being different makes you feel we are a mistake and that is what I am feeling I am, a big irreversible mistake. I can no longer put the burden of my life onto anybody else. I know how blessed part of my life has been but I can no longer put find any drive or motivation to live. Sometimes I feel so lonely that I feel I am so unlike and alone. I just want everything to stop. No one will understand how I feel or know what it is like in my head and if you know you will hate me anyway. I hope you will find rest knowing that I am no longer in pain, that I am no longer fighting demons in my head. 

There are some people who think and say I am a rapacious strumpet for being with a man I loved who is by chance insanely rich but this is not true Uncle Ben. I am not like that I had been with him because I loved him and just desired the same from him. I have never asked for a single penny from him or never accepted anything materialistic from him that I can't afford myself. That house he bought for us meant so much to me, not because of the million-dollar money it cost but because it was my dream house. Dream house because my love was part of it. Because he was going to be part of it, that apartment was not just a house it was home, a home we made together but now that I think about it, I was expecting too much from him or anybody around me. That apartment was not home it was an illusion we created for some time and once that fairy-tale illusion shattered its broken pieces dug into my heart and it ached so bad that I couldn't breathe. For the world, I am nothing for him but his slut, his extramarital affair, his dirty little secret and it will remain the same at the end of my life. When I entered this type of relationship I thought love was enough to live a happy life. It felt like I was going to live a dream life where I would live with my first love whom I wanted to be my last one. I was happy that I finally found someone who wants me, too blind to see what will come with him. Now that I think of it I fell into a trap of fantasies. I lost my self-respect, and my dignity a long time ago after entering this kind of relationship with a married man but now my belief in people in the few last past days is also lost. My hope is too broken to be joined again. My broken trust has no refill now because once it is gone it won't get back ever.