The time it'll take you to realize I'm gone is enough time for me to run away, slowly taking myself apart, like a jigsaw puzzle. I'll be in a hundred pieces and before you can even find all of them I will have already been gone. Disappeared into the wind, like leaves falling in Maine autumn.
   I hope you cry the hardest you ever did, and realize that it wasn't myself in the end who killed me. It was you. You talking behind my back, you making me feel so incompetent, you thinking I wanted it to be about myself.
   I hope you realize that I cared more about you and the other than myself or getting better. I relapsed again and again cause I was dealing with your problems, I never said not to talk to me. I let you in, and in the end I just got hurt.
   I'm sorry about your mom. I'm sorry that I'm not the best son. I'm sorry that I'm never good enough. I'm sorry when this finally ends.