I’m transcribing a series of handwritten letters I wrote, but never sent. Read the previous letters here.
She didn’t mean to hurt my feelings. I’m sure she didn’t. But I don’t have anyone else to talk to. God, I’m so deficient. And weird. And effed up. God, so screwed up. You shouldn’t have touched me with a ten foot poll after seeing my family. I’m so broken. Dammit, why weren’t you the one to be the one to understand me.