The pain is gone.
The hate is gone.

At least, most of it, that is the part that posessed the ability to vanish, is.

What do you know - poison eventually dries out. Even after accumulating so fast, you have no way of spitting it out quickly enough; even after transforming you into a lower-scale kind of poison as well.

It didn't take long before I knew the solution was remembering without reliving it all, but it took time before I could pull that off. So for a hell of a while, it seemed - and I truly believed - that I would always have to go back every now and then in order to remember. Go back simply to take one more look at the hurt, the excruciating pain, the games, the betrayal, the lies, the confusion, the fucking fear that got all of us there - just to take one more look so as never to lose focus, so as to remind myself of how it all goes down. And I could've sworn I would always remember you, and each and every one of your crappy words and actions.

But I only just realized - I don't remember you. All I have left of you is the lessons your cruelty has taught me. All I remember is the lousy kind of person you are, and the fact that I don't want or need any of you in my life.

I threw everything away on purpose because I got so damn fed up, and the fact that it was on purpose undoubtedly makes me a horrible person - but even now, I don't care. I'm not sorry, never going to be sorry - but because I'm not sorry doesn't mean I'm proud of my actions or I'll behave the same way again when I get the chance.

Being poisonous is an experience; it melts everything away, throws your principles out the door and creates the destruction that your soul just might long for. But living off destruction isn't the way I want to be moving on anymore.

If you were worthy, you gave me a sign, whether it be explicit or not - and damn it, this is all I ever was asking for. I took violent blows for each and everyone of you because you were worth it in my eyes, and for once, I was the one in need of that kind of catcher in the rye. So barely anyone tried to catch me - all I needed then was some acknowledgement. And now what may work with you might be bitching, pretending or straight talk; it's fine.

There is no more pain, no more hate - but no more past, either.

I have forgotten all about you, and it's only when darkness closes in and the winds start blowing that I'll think of you - that I'll be inadvertently going back. Maybe I'll cry again, maybe I'll feel nostalgic - but only for a moment frozen in time that is not going to matter.