Dear Emily, I have no possible hope of having a girlfriend, that was a choice I made long, long ago. You are one person who can understand what that means for living life. Everything I do is pointless. God is not on my side. You are an incredibly kind and loyal person. I would have begged, borrow and stole for your friendship - until I realized there's no point in a dishonest relationship. I loved you very much. You were a childhood dream come true. The guilt was beyond oppressive but those few months talking to you was like Christmas every day. There's only one way this can end - and you know that. The daymares run into nightmares that run into daymares. There is no escaping the ravages. That's why people do bad things, you know, because they block themselves off from love and need to express it. There is no possible excuse for that. All things I do without love, therefore, are meaningless. I write on conjecture and that is its own form of hell - even if that conjecture is correct. The deception renders praise useless, they speak of a person who does not exist. Others are desperate too out there but I can speak only of myself. I always knew it would come to this. You will feel no pain when I'm gone, no sense of loss. I misuse and abuse my art to aid in the deception of my true condition. No one alive understands what talent I have. Even I can only guess. But to go on like this is criminal. Thank God I have you to understand that. You are my secret friend now so you won't have to bear the shame of me.
P.S. Don't turn into one of those political fossils. You are better than that. If you want to make the world a better place, for you, just breathe.
