Dear Niall.

Dear Niall 8.

Dear Niall 

October 1, 2012.

One week. One more week. 

How has your a month and ONE week sleep been? I wish I could sleep for ONE whole week. I would right fancy that. Today has been ONE of the worst days I have ever had. Ever. First of all, my mum called me today. Guess what she said. She told me I was ONE of the worst human beings she has ever spoken too. Also, she said that she hopes I rot in despair. Do you know how hard it is for your mum to tell you that you are ONE awful person? It's terrible, but by now, after not having you for so, so, so long, I'm quite numb to it. It doesn't really bother me because all of the words she is speaking, are true. Truer than when I told you that I loved you with the ONE heart I do have. 

I don't know why I even write these anymore. You're never going to read them, or get a chance to read them. So why do I write to you like you're going to reply to me when I know you aren't? You are never waking up Niall. Never. As far as I see it, you're already gone, but your heart is still beating. Like God has already taken you, but wants to give everybody hope. Hope is the most powerful thing in the universe. It may be, but I don't believe in hope. I stopped believing in hope when you didn't when the doctors said you were going too. I guess you could say that I'm only writing these letters to you, addressing them to you, and using words like 'you' to make it seem like I'm not going fucking nuts. 

Maybe I only write these to give myself some type of closure, or some type of hope. No, it can't be hope because I don't believe in hope. Could it be closure? Maybe... But I like to think of it more as a way to let everything out. Tell somebody, something, how I'm feeling. I have to let these feelings out somewhere, and since you- Niall- isn't here to listen, I write these letters. They have become some type of journal... But more or so a vent. A vent that I can tell anything to and not be judged. 

No... Addressing these to Niall is a gateway. A gateway to express the pain. The agony. The pent up agression I have. That's why I adress these to you Niall. Not to tell you half the shit I do tell you because you won't live to see it. No way in hell. The doctors are just playing with my head. Telling me that there is still a chance you might wake up. Your mum calling me telling me it's all my fault. Everybody just wants me dead and gone. That's what I think. Hell. That's what I know. 

Why am I still adressing these to 'you'? You're never going to get to read them. Why can't I just let go? 

I'm going to have to. 

But I don'w want to let ,the last little sliver of connection I have with you, go. 

Did I mention that the boys found out about me drinking? Oh....It didn't end well. 

Harry flipped out and starting raving and ranting on and on about how I am going to kill myself with alcohol. You know what I told him? 

I shook my head and pointed at my face saying, "Does it look like I give a flying fuck?" 

He stormed off and Zayn probably would have jumped me if Louis wasn't there. Ni, it's been getting harder. So much harder. I finally got to see you... Your mum went back to Ireland and I went to the hospital by myself. You were in the same room, the same position, and you had all of the same machines attached to your fragile body. When I saw you lying there, my heart fell out of my chest and onto the floor. I no longer live for anything. My heart is gone. It leaves with you. I'm an empty shell. No longer functioning correctly. 

I am a former shell of my self. My body, my veins, my head, my organs, they are are hollow. Functioning for the sheer fact that you're still breathing. I have given up all hope. Never have I experianced so much pain from the one I love. You tought me how to love, and you thought me what if felt like to lose the one I cared for most. 

I'm no longer breaking. 

I'm broken and ready to be taken. 

Love,

Liam.  

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I KNOW this was short..BUT I'm trying to build suspence and make the letters last a little longer you know. This story will probably be coming to an end on Thursday of nex week. 

Can you believe the emotion in this? 

I can't..