Dear ---
I'm sorry but I need to come first. I can't be everywhere, or available all the time.
I'm still working on me. It's going to take months. I care but I refuse to care as much as I used to. I'm horrid and selfish, for that I'm sorry. But there's a point where I need to say, enough is enough. And I have. Just as a while ago. Been there, done that and all that shaz. It's called survival. I've barely been living, not in the real world anyway. Been in my own little world. Stuck. No where to go. No escape. Tired. Hurt. Sad. Alone. Not alone but still lonely. Wasting away. It's time to live, nearly. I'm working my way up now. It's long-winded, slow. One day this will all be a passing thought.
This has to be done. No choice
Sorry
Me