I was never good at confrontation, Leon had known this better than anyone.

It made sense that he wouldn’t say these words to be face because I likely would have broken his.

His use of the words pathetic and weak are especially prominent, he seemed to know the way to dig deep into my heart and tear it right out. I had not seeked his validation, but when it seemed like I had earned it felt pride. Now it was all crushed.

I crumple the letter and toss it into the fire, if he truly felt this way then I would prove him wrong.

“I gave you my life. 27 years Conrad, I already know you’ll say it didn’t mean anything or that it was a mistake and you’ll never do it again. I’ve turned a blind eye to your ‘gym sessions’ as much as I can for the sake of our 7 beautiful children. What was it you said to Ava when she found her husband cheating? I believe it was ‘He deserves to eat a bullet.’ So I’m just taking your advice, my beloved. Cheater, cheater, bullet eater.” With all my love, Clarissa

I watched my phone light up, a message from Frisk. My hands figured to be shaking as I put the words imbedded in my mind. I won’t ever get her out of my head, as I keep repeating it over and over again. “It was for the better.” They told me, “it had to be done.” Then why do I still feel bad? The form of warm tears filled my eyes. I could barely read the words on the phone screen. As though Frisk was my enemy, I feel scrapped. Thrown away by everyone around me, as it will never be the same. My heart beat quickly as I opened my eyes to the real world. I remembered. I am not mad at the message, I am mad because Frisk is dead. She has been dead. Dead because of me.

Catching eyes with my friend across the room Rolling our eyes in sync Smile at their attempt But it doesn’t bother us Cause we’re just gonna do us

Dealt with hate our whole life Growing up like this Being told we couldn’t do it So we tried for two weeks And proved them wrong

Why would we care Seeing their glare We just smile and they’ll go away Cause we know we’re better And we prove we’re better We always just brush it off

Abused bemused why is this person upset? The world is full of upset people I try to happy and get along with people isn’t my fault that people upset I wish people would stop blaming for why they’re feeling so miserable and take it out of people, but I am minding my own business Victim culture is everywhere the blame game is always there. Nobody takes responsibility.

the thing about love is that I don’t know if it’s real. if it commits commits to the connection that connects souls that are bound to glue or to sew. sew or glue their love together or forever. the thing that traces people together that makes them think their so forever however what makes them think they will stay or play what if they play with their heart to let them know that the flow is only going to outgrow to let them know they weren’t going to stay but to play or maybe there hope that they’ll stay until gray where you grow old with them and never feel that way.

Vince,

I wonder how you can still sleep at night knowing that you hurt the woman you claim to love? She did everything for you, she gave up everything just for you, yet you chose to hurt her instead. If you’re wondering how she is, well, she is doing just fine with me beside her. I will take care of her and never hurt her the way you did, you didn’t even let her explain herself and jumped to conclusions.

Let me tell you this, she never loved you to begin with. And she is free to do whatever she wants at that time because you already broke up with her. You don’t have the right to accuse her of cheating on you, because you did the same thing. But don’t you worry, I will take care of her more than you could. Always remember, someone’s trash is another’s treasure.

Yours truly, Ruzzel

Before I opened the letter I already felt something was off, because who in their right mind would send an anonymous letter to me? Especially since I never told anyone about my whereabouts, and as I read the letter, I unconsciously clinched my fist. Because that jerk dared to accuse me of hurting the person that I love when in reality it was the other way around!

Irish and my relationship was a disaster, to begin with, I was fifteen and she was eighteen when we met. I was groomed while being in a relationship with her, yet my naive self believed every word she said. I couldn’t help but feel the range in my heart once more, how dare she do that to me when my intentions all alone were genuine!

I know my blood is boiling right now, that’s why I stepped out of my studio for a minute. I can’t possibly draw a proper blueprint for my client if I’m boiling within. When I stepped out of the studio, I saw my elder brother Ryan. He was making a lesson plan for his kids.

“Good thing you decided to come out of your room, who was the letter sender?”

I felt my lips wobbling as he asked that question, I still can't shake off the feeling. I slowly walked toward him, I needed to feel something other than hurt or range.

“Hey, talk to me. Tell me everything.”

That was all it took for me to break down in front of him, I rarely cry but when I do it means that everything is too much for me. Every breath I take is much harder than the next, I feel like there was a rock on my chest. Because what they have done to me was below the belt, I trusted them to be my friend and my girlfriend! I even gave them financial support for their thesis because they told me that would help them in the future, yet after taking my money, they weren’t satisfied yet. Because they also broke my heart in the process, that’s why what was written on the letter was just false accusations!

Yet, I am not Delan Vincent Sanchez for nothing. I will take revenge against them, for now I will let them enjoy their lives. However, once I got stronger, I will give them the war they desperately wanted right from the start!

Me: That’s it, I’m waving the white flag on everything.

British Terrorist: Beg your pardon?

Me: Python!

Gods Reject: Monty Python?

Me: No not that.

Me: The code.

British Terrorist: Ah, I see.

Me: One mistake in indentations and hours worth of code ARE RUINED!

Yeliel, Cereal Destroyer: Pray to the spaghetti monster.

iPad Kid: R’amen.

Me: Y’all are no use.

Yeliel, Cereal Destroyer: Your loss.

Me: @Ari can you help?

Ari: Busy.

Me: :(

Ashbird: I can help you after school.

Me: You got your phone back?

Ashbird: Nope, just a figment of your imagination.

Yeliel, Cereal Destroyer: Makes sense.

Me: Anyways, back to PYTHONNNN!

Me: It’s better than Java.

Me: But like, I’ve spent the past hour looking for where I went wrong.

Gods reject: That’s why you should have taken game design and play Minecraft with us instead of League.

Ashbird: Yeah.

Me: First off, League is superior in every way.

Me: Second, I’ll be the one getting my Python certification next year.

Ashbird: But at what cost? . . .

WHAT what what I…

what?

this doesn’t make sense

the people

but i

this doesn’t make sense

I swear i locked it.

I put the keys in the lock

and locked it.

I swear

There is no way that i didn’t

But maybe i didn’t…

And that would lead to this

How could i be so stupid

I stared at the screen in sorrow. How such anger could permeate the screen and be felt, even in my own heart, was a mystery I did not know the answer to. He was miserable, that much was clear. Miserable and angry. But what upset me most was that my first thought was what I could do better to help him not feel that way.

It’s always like that, isn’t it? Us placing blame on ourselves for something so incredibly out of our hands. Something that, no matter what we said or did would have happened anyway. His message was like that. Reminded me of all the events that had led up to this outpouring of anger and my small role in them. I was just glad, somewhat, that this time it was through the screen and not face to face. That he could not grab something nearby and hurl it at the ground. But never me. He never hurt me, although sometimes, in a sick way, I wished he would so that I could feel anger instead of just total sadness.

I began to type a response. “I wish you wouldn’t…” but deleted it. He wouldn’t be in the right mind to read it anyway, or to want to be better. Not now, at least, so soon after sending the message, and not for as long as I had known him, either. Sadly. My biggest regret and one that I had no control over. It wasn’t something I did or didn’t do. It was something I couldn’t do, had no way to take any action on it whatsoever.

So I deleted the message, took a deep breath, and closed out of the archives of my journal.