Dearest P.A./my love and the best thing that happened in my life,

I’m so sorry. I’m so extremely sorry. I should’ve told you everything on October 4th. I shouldn’t have had anything to tell you. We could’ve been perfect together. You were and still are and will always be fantastic and just perfect but I fucked everything up. Don’t follow me. I’m in no position to tell you what to do but just think about the children you can have with someone else. They’ll be beautiful and you could write stories with them and your future wife could have all the same kinks as me, she just can’t be me since by the time you read this I’ll be dead. Don’t act like you’ll miss me. You were never going to stop playing the Game and now I’ve let you win. It really wasn’t good for you to hold so much anger. I deserved to be broken and eventually commit suicide from the Game, but you shouldn’t have needed to play it. You deserve to go find someone who shows you that you’re perfection. Please go find them and love them as much or more than you loved me and don’t forget that you’re a good person. You have some extremely fucked up parts, and you’ve done some beyond horrible things, but you’re still a fantastic person. You were my person. Though now I need you to be someone else’s, I’ll always be yours. I’m sorry you had to have me in your life. I’m so sorry.

- Your fucking liar

7595) It's almost 4am. I'm trying to do my homework. But every time I catch a glimpse of my arms or my thighs or my boobs or my ankles; all I can see everywhere is fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Fat.