The Last Blog Post about her Part 4 "readers, I am going to tell you who I really am…"

Fuck technology
Fuck Internet
Fuck social media 
Fuck Facebook 
Fuck instagram 
But most of all fuck me for discovering your pictures on instagram

These days, there are just so many ways to stay connected to a person and yes, there are just as many ways to be haunted by one. 

It took me more than 5 years to wipe my slate clean of you but it just took a tap of a finger on the fucking screen to make every shitty feeling that had been purged from me to resurfaced, like a forgotten murdered body washed to shore. 

Going through every fucking single slide of picture, detailing every single pixel and reading the caption over and over again, trying to look for a single speck of me in those recent pictures of her and trying to convinced myself that, yeah she is still into me. 

But every time I came close, I realized that the person she meant isn't me.  It kinda feels like being covered in warm spit, soothing yet disguising. It is not easy going through all the pictures of someone that you thought you got over. The images just scar your mind and make your fucking eyes bleed from the inside out.  

I went through your 678 pictures twice, and every smile you had on your face is like a fucking slit on the heart; but somehow I have come to realized that maybe leaving me on the outside is probably for the best. What we had was never rainbows and cinnamon; we had to fucking lie to the world just to be together. For a moment there, I thought we could live in our own world and fuck the world and its fucking existence, be completely immersed in each other but our lies caught up with us and we had to face everyone. 

But what you don’t know is that I choose to be the villain; lied to you, broke your fucking heart and sold my soul to the devil, just so that I could take the fall for you. 

I was the obnoxious customer sitting on at your counter that turned into your lover and now someone you fucking despite. 

It’s been 3 years 65 days and counting, since we last uttered a single word to each other. And not to be an “optimist” but I do foresee that it will not happen anytime soon or very likely we will never speak again. I just have to live with the fact that I am completely severed from who, what and where you are.   

But on quiet nights like this, these eyes of mine will never stop its rapid movement, dreaming about the what ifs and might have could have been…

If I could only be your greatest accident and not just a needle wound at the tip of your finger that you could hardly see.  
If I could only be the most excruciating pain you feel inside and not a tiny rash at the back of your palm, itch today gone tomorrow.
If I could only be your trusted confidant that you go to and not a faceless prowler that lurks on every single social media you sign in.
If I could only be the head that lay on your breast and not the greatest mistake that hang heavy upon your chest. 

Today my dear readers, I am going to tell you who I really am…
I am an apparition who got his heart broken because of a girl
I am the nobody who couldn’t be with the love of his life 
I am a pariah who took all the blame for a girl  
I am the desolated who is hated by the girl he loves
I am just like the millions out there who just refuses to move on, making the heart a tomb where our affection for that particular someone that we couldn't be with, lay cold and in decay 

This blog right here has always been a place for me let out these silence screams;  
But this is where it all ends…