I'm tired of waiting, of being there for you when you never were, of trying to make you love me more, of trying to make you proud. I don't need you, I don't need anyone. I can be my own example, my own true love, my own hero.
Yes, I'm over you; I'm over your words and empty promises. But most of all, I'm over the pain. It isn't there anymore. Gone. Vaporised. I don't know where it went, but, hey! It's gone. And that's enough for me.
Don't think I won't be able to fight my way to a new begining. I've done it so many times, I can do it again in my sleep. A little overwhelming? Get over me.
Yes, I can be a little exasperating, a little conceited, but that's just the way you made me.
Enough about me. I want to talk about you. About the person who destroyed me. About the person who turned the blood in my veins into ice. Yes, you. Who else?
I wanted to thank you openly, so that everybody could know. So there it is.
Thanks, sweetheart, you made me indestructible.
See you in hell.