Date: 7/10/X6

Location: Did a pigeon shit in your mouth when you looked up?

Dear Witcher Rossi,

Do you still have that mask I gave you as a present for our first anniversary? The same on you said that was ugly until I said outloud that I had hand-carved it myself? Then you went all quiet and slunched in your office chair?

I want it back.

You didn't accept it as my gift to you, so, rightfully, I should have it back, out of the many things I was legally obligated to give to you. The music box and the mask should be the execption. After all, it holds a piece of me, a shard that I do not want you to have to prevent me from moving on with my life, holding me back.

Oh, also, the plane landed safe and soundly, just in case if you were wondering or spoken to your shady low-life friends. Their actings skills make that terrible actress Lumber Ared look like Joss Quarterson in terms of skills on the stage. If I a nickle everytime they stuttered I'd have the money to purchase our old apartment complex building and demoish it with all of my belongings that you now posess inside.

After I had left the plane and entered the airport it had steadily gotten harder to breathe. Once I had checked out of the airport I nearly fainted, my lungs must had foundnit suddenly overwhelmped by the fresh air in compairson to the dirty polluted in the city we lived in. I had to stay inside for the first 2 years living there. It was so incredibly hard for me back then, I couldn't leave the bedroom and walk down the hallway towards the bathroom without entering a coughing fit. But I stayed. I stayed for you. I loved you, loved you enough to suffer quietly as I didnt want you to worry anymore than what you already had on your plate.

But what did my suffering earn me? Anguish. You took my heart that I had willingly gave you from its little glass dome we made together, to show off our love...And crushed it infront of me. Helpless. watching your new bride and child enter our home before shortly being kicked out in the rain...Like a old dog.

I'm outside of the airport as of writing this letter wating for a ride. After I do get one, I'm heading home.

Exhusted,

-Hell-Meir

My Chest Hurts.