After all that has happened I see no point writing. No point hoping. No point living.
I have tried to go but I didn’t succeed. I am a failure on all levels.
You have all the rights to feel angry and I wish I had told you about Roland before, but I was a fucking coward. I was scared that I would lose you. Everything fell apart. EVERYTHING.
I have very little energy to write. I am locked up in an observation cell with a maximum security here and I have been drugged with some antidepressants and other stuff to calm me down. I sleep most of the time, sometimes I don’t know what is real and what is not. I don’t recognise the reality anymore. If ever, I will write more one day.
Losing you is worse than any pain, worse than everything that has happened to me a few weeks ago. I don’t know, if I ever will be able to tell you or anyone about it.
Now you left me and I can’t cope without you. I just can’t. I don’t want to.