No, not yet.

Bonne nuit,

You know, part of me wants you to wake up,

To talk, about anything,

Maybe for the last time like that,

Before I go deal with my mind.

I appear to be sure of myself,

But, truth is, I'm scared I can't control what I think,

I hate I can't control it, it's frustrating, it hurts.

I hate I have to face every standard,

Every comment,

Every time someone thinks I can do something.

I've told you this before, and I will again,

I'm too weak.

And you're not the exception,

Of course I cannot control what to think and feel when it comes to you,

It's pretty unbelievable actually.

So, yes, it hurts that you think I'm always attacking you,

While actually, your well-being is what I'm looking for, even if it comes before mine.

I know I'm lame and you're probably laughing at this very moment, but it just hurts that you can't see what I do or at least try to do for you.

At the same time is sad that you can't see yourself the way I see you.

All the awesomeness, the uniqueness, the greatness and the value that I see in you.

But in reality, you don't seem to care about any of this, and sincerely, I can't blame you.

In reality you're going to wake up.

You're not going to talk to me.

You'll read this tomorrow, as you're supposed to.

And I'm going to disappear, as I am supposed to.