Dear Ivan, I will be releasing these games, along with evidence of your abuse, at midnight. Before then, however, I'd like to speak to you directly... 7 years ago, I published my first game, I Hated it. I thought the mere fact that I tried was something to be ashamed of. The games that followed I had similar feelings about. Each one, in my mind was a blemish on the soon-to-blossom career I felt entitled to. The next one was always the one that'd make this awful hobby into a job. It had to be. I needed to give myself a reason, to justify why I'm still here. ... I found no justification through games, of course. I found it through you. You admired me in a way I never had. You were stupid enough to think I brought value to the world, and I was stupid enough to believe you. For the first time, I was something to be proud of. Not just of my games, but of me. Myself. ... You know what happened next. You caused it, after all. But now, I've escaped, And now, I'm different. It's not... Self-hatred anymore. It's apathy. Apathy, and a little piece of you in the back of my mind. Like a axe mounted on the wall. Apathy to myself, and a tremendous, crushing hatred for you. I'm trying not to cry now. Or I've been trying this whole time, but I dont know I don't care and I hope you know that I hope you know that because I to hit you in whatever is left of your soul and I want it to tear you apart. because I love you or, I loved before but now I hate you I hate you like bloody knuckles and I hate you like an axe hanging over my head and I hate you like you're still my friend and I'm glad your dad never knew the person he raised and when you finally listen, I still won't come back don't try to find me. -Andrew
