Ducky

Yes, this is about you. Sometime ago, my heart was a dark and desolate place for me. I couldn't look into a  mirror without thinking that I was really ugly. That I had no dreams for myself, that things would be better if I just didn't care about other people or what they thought about me. But I couldn't get out of being friends with you, you were too nice and sweet for your own good.

So I took what you had to give. I thought that what I was doing was ok for me. And for a while it was. I was happy that someone had my back, that someone wold care if I tripped and fell on my ass. But you weren't happy, you had emotions that were bottled up from years and years of disappointments. In the end I had to be the one to stop you from overdoing it. I had to stop you from going too deep into that dark place in your mind. I had to stop you from breaking what we had or what I thought we had.

In the end I got scared. Of you, of what I thought of you and of myself. I turned out to be a mean heartless thing. Because I couldn't reciprocate right. I couldn't make you happy. Or you didn't let me. I'm sorry. I really am. If I could do it over again, I would stay the heck out of your life, so I could spare you all this. So I could die peacefully inside myself without hurting you.

Please just stop bottling it up, let go of the bad things. Think to yourself, "why the heck am I letting this weigh me down?". Ducky I was fucked up, and I think you were too.

So maybe when we're less fucked up, we can be friends again. Real friends.

I want my ducky back.