A/N: This is a very personal piece to me and I really debated whether or not to post this at all, but after I thought about it, I realized how long it had been since I had even written anything, let alone posted something, so I decided this would be posted. This is really more of a journal entry then anything else to be honest. I wrote after seeing something particular on the news, which if you know me personally, you'll probably know exactly what I'm taking about. If you would like an explanation, please feel free to e-mail me, but for those of you that don't, feel free to read on and enjoy. Over and Out.

Dear famous friend,

Betrayal, anger, guilt. That's what I felt as I stared at your back, listening to your sobs echo through the silent room.

Through the power of the media, I have been transported to you. Sickened to death as I listen to the upbeat voices and the smiling faces from my television set.

Loud, gut-wrenching sobs are tearing from your throat. It's hard to hear what they're saying above your cries. They're talking about you. Not that either of us wish to hear it. You're a beast that needs to be caged. You're heartless and will never know love like they have... even though I know it's not true, I can't help but doubt.

Your back is turned, hunched over the cold table in front of you, sobs growing louder.

Pity washes over me. Your young life is over before it even began, with just a silly little mistake. Your mind must be racing right now. Is that how you felt then?

What did it feel like? When you felt their lives slip through you fingers; did it make you feel powerful? Did it make you forget all the pain and betrayal you've felt in your life? Can you justify your decision, now that you have only yourself to face?

You cry, you beg, you plea. It wasn't you.

And my stomach drops out.

I try hard to believe you, but somewhere in my mind, it hurts, because I feel a glimmer of doubt at your words. I am ripped apart.

I know there is nothing that can rectify what everyone has done to you. There's no amount of love that could have saved you, except for your own. Is that what he gave to you? I can't even speak his name, for it is like poison on my lips. Did he give you the love that you were seeking, or were you lost again, just like all the times before?

My hands feel as if they are stained with blood as well. I had abandoned you. I left, just like everyone else in your life. I'm sorry will never been enough. I know, but I can't help it, it's in my nature, just like this, apparently, was in yours.

I'm sorry can't stop the tears. I'm sorry can't undo your deeds. I'm sorry can't save your soul. We are all guilty.

My stomach sinks as the camera pulls away from you, away from that familiar back, tense with the immense sadness that you are forced to carry. I do not wish to leave you so soon, but am left little choice, as I have to go on with my own numb world.

Just know that: if I could, I would take it all back, along with your tears.

With Love,

Anonymous.