Post by Amelia Hearts on Mar 21, 2021 20:43:43 GMT -5
Dear Harry,
I knew it. I fucking knew it. I told you, didn’t I tell you? I fucking told you it was going to happen. I told you, I told her, I told fucking everyone. You said I should let her in, that it would be good for me to finally let another person into my life, into my heart. Well, I did. I let her in. In my heart, in my life, in my fucking bed. And y’know what she did? She ripped my heart right out of my fucking chest and threw it in the street. Made me believe that she actually fucking cared. Made me believe we had a future together. I actually began to believe I wasn’t going to be alone for the rest of my miserable, probably short life. But of fucking course that’s not true. No one gives a shit about me besides me, and even that is fading more and more every goddamn day.
I’m such a fucking idiot!
I knew it. I fucking knew it. I told you, didn’t I tell you? I fucking told you it was going to happen. I told you, I told her, I told fucking everyone. You said I should let her in, that it would be good for me to finally let another person into my life, into my heart. Well, I did. I let her in. In my heart, in my life, in my fucking bed. And y’know what she did? She ripped my heart right out of my fucking chest and threw it in the street. Made me believe that she actually fucking cared. Made me believe we had a future together. I actually began to believe I wasn’t going to be alone for the rest of my miserable, probably short life. But of fucking course that’s not true. No one gives a shit about me besides me, and even that is fading more and more every goddamn day.
I’m such a fucking idiot!
Dear Harry,
I’m… I’m sorry, Har. I hope you’re still here after I ripped the last page out. I’m just feeling all kinds of things I haven’t felt in a long fucking time. Usually, I’m just numb. Push everyone away before they even get close. But when I finally gave someone a shot, only for her to make me look like such a fucking moron, I couldn’t fucking help but somehow spiral even lower into oblivion.
I may have been drinking a bit lately. Can you tell? Only a bottle or two… today. I swear. That’s an improvement for me, you know.
Truth be told, I shouldn’t be blaming you. You were just looking out for me like a friend would. Really, It’s my own damn fault for actually believing anyone could give a shit about me. I’m just a tool for everyone to use until they realize how dull I am.
So you know what? Fuck love. Fuck all of that bullshit. The last person I ever truly loved killed herself when she was 16. The last of my love died with her. I don’t need to love anyone in order to do what I’m good at. My music is all about being as angry as possible, I kick people’s asses whether I’m in a good mood or not, love is fucking pointless.
Speaking of cheap segways to avoid soul-crushing topics… my opponent this week is also pretty fucking pointless. Richard Dweck, why the fuck did they bring him in when the dude playing dress up like him is way better than him in literally every way? He likes to act like he doesn’t give a shit about the dude doing his shtick better than him but it’s like he’s wearing a mask made of fucking cellophane.
We all fucking see that it drives him nuts. Not only is Not Dweck a better Richard Dweck than Dick himself, but the dude even beat him when they went one on one! That should’ve been a Loser Leaves match because we don’t need both of those yutzes. Hell, we barely need one. So I guess I gotta dispose of that dipshit myself.
Look at me, rambling on about my opponent to my fucking diary. I’m sorry, Har. I know you don’t really care about all this wrestling stuff. I’ll take to my camera to vent to. It just feels good to unload all my pissiness on somebody. You and I both know I’ve bitched enough to you about her so unfortunately for Dweck, he’s in my crosshairs.
That makes me a shitty person, huh? Well, that hasn’t stopped me so far.
Thanks, Harry. And I’m sorry again about tearing a page out. That’s gotta be like, ripping a finger off or something for you, right? Well, you can watch me get my ass kicked a bit. That’ll make us even, yeah? If it doesn’t, don’t worry. I’m sure Dweck won’t be the only one giving me a beating. He sure as hell won’t give me the worst beating. That’ll be at my hands only. But I’ll be sure to warm up on him first.
But until then, Har, I’m off. We’ll talk soon.
Signed,
AH.
I’m… I’m sorry, Har. I hope you’re still here after I ripped the last page out. I’m just feeling all kinds of things I haven’t felt in a long fucking time. Usually, I’m just numb. Push everyone away before they even get close. But when I finally gave someone a shot, only for her to make me look like such a fucking moron, I couldn’t fucking help but somehow spiral even lower into oblivion.
I may have been drinking a bit lately. Can you tell? Only a bottle or two… today. I swear. That’s an improvement for me, you know.
Truth be told, I shouldn’t be blaming you. You were just looking out for me like a friend would. Really, It’s my own damn fault for actually believing anyone could give a shit about me. I’m just a tool for everyone to use until they realize how dull I am.
So you know what? Fuck love. Fuck all of that bullshit. The last person I ever truly loved killed herself when she was 16. The last of my love died with her. I don’t need to love anyone in order to do what I’m good at. My music is all about being as angry as possible, I kick people’s asses whether I’m in a good mood or not, love is fucking pointless.
Speaking of cheap segways to avoid soul-crushing topics… my opponent this week is also pretty fucking pointless. Richard Dweck, why the fuck did they bring him in when the dude playing dress up like him is way better than him in literally every way? He likes to act like he doesn’t give a shit about the dude doing his shtick better than him but it’s like he’s wearing a mask made of fucking cellophane.
We all fucking see that it drives him nuts. Not only is Not Dweck a better Richard Dweck than Dick himself, but the dude even beat him when they went one on one! That should’ve been a Loser Leaves match because we don’t need both of those yutzes. Hell, we barely need one. So I guess I gotta dispose of that dipshit myself.
Look at me, rambling on about my opponent to my fucking diary. I’m sorry, Har. I know you don’t really care about all this wrestling stuff. I’ll take to my camera to vent to. It just feels good to unload all my pissiness on somebody. You and I both know I’ve bitched enough to you about her so unfortunately for Dweck, he’s in my crosshairs.
That makes me a shitty person, huh? Well, that hasn’t stopped me so far.
Thanks, Harry. And I’m sorry again about tearing a page out. That’s gotta be like, ripping a finger off or something for you, right? Well, you can watch me get my ass kicked a bit. That’ll make us even, yeah? If it doesn’t, don’t worry. I’m sure Dweck won’t be the only one giving me a beating. He sure as hell won’t give me the worst beating. That’ll be at my hands only. But I’ll be sure to warm up on him first.
But until then, Har, I’m off. We’ll talk soon.
Signed,
AH.
Amelia is sitting in a blue beanbag chair with her arm resting on a small table next to it, propping her head up. In the other hand is a mostly drank bottle of Jack Daniels, haphazardly tipped over in her lazy grasp. She has a blank expression on her face. She’s in the living room of her apartment, the entire room is dark. The blinds are drawn, further shrouding the room in darkness. With a deep sigh, she suddenly springs to her feet, wobbling on her feet for a moment before wandering over to the camera.
Hey there, Richie. How’re you doing today? Actually, I don’t care, honestly. Quick question, which one are you again? You the *real* Dweck or the actually good one? Wait… yeah, again, I still don’t care. Either way, I’m still going to kick your ass.
Listen, Dick. I got nothing against you. Really, I don’t. You’re just in the wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time. You need to deal with an angry… and considerably drunk… Amelia Hearts who’s about ready to rip someone’s head off. But considering how you got embarrassed by the dude fucking pretending to be you, you should be used to getting stomped by someone who is significantly better than you. And uh…
Amelia points to herself and mouths “me”.
I mean, it’s cute that you keep coming back to get your ass kicked. Maybe I’m not the only masochist on the roster after all. Who would have guessed? Well, you’re in luck, buddy boy! Because I’m about to give you the ride of your fucking life by giving you the ass-kicking of your life.
Like I said, this isn’t personal. If your name wasn’t across from mine, I would be fine letting you continue letting you live your life however you want. But because it is, I need to kick you in your chest and make you question what life decisions you made to make you end up in the ring against me.
In fact, I’ll do it for you. Your biggest mistake, the damning error you made is agreeing to a contract with a company full of people far more talented and far more hungry than you are. Wrestling isn’t a priority for you. You spread yourself across so many different professions that you aren’t any good at any of them.
Now, I know that’s rich coming from the musician turned wrestler, but the difference between you and me is that I’m fucking phenomenal at what I do. I can go out at Summerfest and tear the house down then head to Revo1 and do the exact same thing. We’re not the same, Dick. You and I are not equal.
I am better than you...
Amelia takes a long swig from the bottle in her hand, emptying the last of the whiskey into her mouth. She swallows hard and tosses the bottle out of the shot, it clanging noisily against the hardwood floor.
I’m alone against the whole fuckin world. That used to scare me when I was a kid but now I’m used to it. I thrive when it’s all versus one. I fuckin like it. So while you think you have that as an advantage over me, Richie, I promise you its quite the opposite. I’m right at home in my own little corner. While you require the adoration of others, I don’t. It’s nice and I love it. But it doesn’t drive me forward. Your selfobsessive nature is going to fuck you up in the end. And this Tuesday, that end is going to come at the hands of Amelia fuckin Hearts when I kick you apart.
Hearts goes quiet for a moment. The forced smile on her face drops, exposing her true emotion. Her words shake a little as she speaks.
As for the rest of you watching. As for the fans who continue to support me despite my perpetual downward spiral… Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me even after I continue to give you every reason to do so. I know I said I don’t need support to keep me going. But that’s talking about wrestling. In life? It’s seriously keeping me alive.
So I guess I can’t say I’m alone. Because no matter what happens, no matter how many people fuck me over… You guys are there to pick me back up. And for that, I’m seriously grateful. Thank you.
Amelia sighs.
Good luck, Rich. I mean that.
Hearts brushes the moisture from her cheek as she moves to shut the camera off, replacing the scene with blackness.