I miss you

Dear Gerard,

My head hurts and so do my legs, as well as my wrists and every single part of my body. I've never felt so tempted to blow my brains against the walls. It's a shame my beautiful gigantic posters of Metallica would get totally full of blood. James Hetfield is too pretty to be bathed by my filthy mud -blood! (and I should stop reading Harry Potter's books lol)

I miss my father. Yes, my father's an arrogant selfish son of a bitch, but I kinda owe him the fact that I exist. And he used to be my hero. He used to be my body guard. He used to be the coolest person on Earth to me. I have no idea how he turned into what he is now. I don't wanna know... Guess these things happen all the time and people change. But I miss him... And I miss the town I got to call "home" for more than half of my life. It's such a beautiful place and I seldom go there, now. Why do I have to be homesick this way? Why do I have to love someone like you? Why do I miss my father? Why can't I just be an average teenager with an average life in an average house with an average family??

You don't know that, do you?

You don't even know that I'm alive. You only saw me once, you looked me in the eye for a couple of seconds. To me, those were the best seconds of my life, the only time I felt alive. But you wouldn't recognise me if you saw me walking down the street. If I turned around you wouldn't know that was me. You forgot about me, just like my father did, just like my old friends did... You forgot about me... Why does everyone forget about me, anyway?

Despite that, I guess I'm okay... Hope you're okay as well.

XO,

Marie.

Can we be like Jack and Sally?

Dear Gerard,

You're never gonna read this. Don't even ask me how do I know this kinda stuff. I just know it. It's one of those things that you shouldn't know. One of those things that you'd be better off without. It's just that I was in desperate need to talk to somebody. Just talk. I can't scream because I live in a small apartment and I have, like, 20 neighbours who wouldn't be much pleased with my moans. Besides, if I screamed everyone would know my inner battles and I don't want that to happen. I want you to be the only one who knows it, because you're the only one who would understand it. And even though I know that you're never gonna be aware of this, I'll keep writing, anyway. I'll keep writing until my fingers start bleeding. I'll keep writing until there's nothing left to say. I'll keep writing until I have used all the words the English vocabulary has to provide. Then, I'll move on to the French vocabulary, then German, then Portuguese... Until there's no more languages I can use to tell you how I feel about you. Then I'll have to make a language up. I don't mind. I still have many years to live this pointless life.

I wrote you a poem, just because I'm not keen on talking about myself. I hope you're feeling this, wherever you are. Here it goes:

My hand in yours,

without a sound.

We'll sit and watch the sun

as it goes down.

why can't we live happily ever after?

Hold me...

When are you coming back?

I'd be your Sally

And you could be my Jack.

We'll be together

and we won't lack a thing.

I love this moment,

I hope it never ends.

Your hand in mine,

without a tear.

We'll sit and look at the stars

they're so clear...

Why can't we live happily ever after?

Hold me

When are you coming back?

I'd be your Sally

and you could be my Jack.

We'll be together

and we won't lack a thing.

I love this moment...

I hope it never ends.

Why can't I be with you?

Like it??

I hope you do. It's the only way I found to tell you how much you mean to me...

I just hope everything's cool...

XO,

Marie.

P.S.: I love you