Fuck this, fuck you, fuck everything.

To see her kiss anybody else is an insult.

To see his pathetic pictures, his ugly face, his fucked up and unwashed hair; it all makes me sick. I want to scream in his face, intimidate the fuck out of him and watch as he physically gives up to me and says he doesn't want to fight. Right when I have him broken down, that's when I'd do it. I'd knock every one of his fucking teeth out of his skull and laugh while I did, feeling the blood run between my knuckles.

I'd kick him while he was down, stab him in the back, throw sand in his eyes. I would do everything underhanded that I could think of just to humiliate him and feel no shame doing so. I would keep laughing as I watched him try and crawl for help, his tears and cries for help the sweetest and most addicting drug I've ever tasted. I'd come close to killing him I'm sure.

I want that power over another man. I want to know I've beaten him on every level and then walk away into the night knowing it, feeling it, living it. Because only that kind of power will ever satisfy me now knowing she's fucking him. And that I'm alone.

Every fucking couple on this planet should just keel over and die, their happiness thrown to the winds like ashes from the people of Pompeii. Dead and forever immortalized as living mummies, frozen in terror and death. Let their sorrow wash over me in waves of spite and hatred, I don't care. It's better then watching them live together. I can't stand it anymore, it's too much and I've been alone for too long.

I hope she reads this and covers his eyes, or even better shows him so he could laugh. He would reassure he could stop me, beat me up, take me out.

You can't. We've never met but I hate everything about you. For both of our sakes, I hope we never meet.

My bitterness keeps me warm at night.