I hope you feel sick whenever you look at a night canvas painted with dancing stars, or when you read a beautiful poem. I want my face to appear in your mind, like a long, painful memory that won’t leave you alone. I want my bitter taste on your tongue whenever you drink coffee or smell cigarettes.

And I want your passions to infuse with the thought of me. Afterall, as you said, we are very similar. I want music to sound like nails on a chalkboard to you, and whenever you sing I want your throat to itch and your eyes to burn.

I want revenge. And d****t, I’ll f*****g get it.