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π“π‘πž 𝐦𝐒𝐝𝐧𝐒𝐠𝐑𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐲.

π“π‘πž 𝐦𝐒𝐝𝐧𝐒𝐠𝐑𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐲.

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𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑒, π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ π‘šπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘›π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘–π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘ .

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This will be my last message. I hope you all take care of yourselves, my dear Candies. I'll miss each and every one of you, but I can't stay here anymore. I hope you understand. Goodbye.

It disgusts me to the core, knowing that every beautiful prose, those lovely letters and poems I ever wrote, was written for someone who never deserved it. My heart was so strangled with love, I failed to notice how crooked they were.