Tell my friends that I loved them.
Who are my friends?
Good question.
Those who know that I loved them, know.
Those who don’t know that I loved them, it’s my fault for not telling them.
Those who think they know that I loved them, but I didn’t really love, it’s ok. Let them be. Nothing I can do about it now.
Those who hated me, well, let them. Let them enjoy my demise. It won’t last. Someone else will raise their hackles eventually.
And those I hate, well, they can just kiss my cold dead ass. Fuck them all.