No, Child.

(Child in mind and spirit, if not in body, and a spoiled selfish scared little child at that!)

Your pain does not make you special,

It does not make you unique.

It does not allow you the right to break rules, or play games with other peoples lives or fate.

Your suffering is not unique, and contrary to what you may think,

There are many who would understand your pain.

They would even be willing to stand by you

To help you to deal with it and move on, oh only,

 IF ONLY,

 you would.

 

Your pain does not give you the right to say,

 And do,

 Whatever you want and then justify it later,

Placing the responsibility everywhere but on your own shoulders.

 

Your crocodile tears,

Oh so often shed, like a snake and its skin,

They no longer impress us.

Used to illicit our sympathy,

but you have proven a bottomless well

Of self pity,

Of Angst,

Of Mallice.

Grow up, oh special child, or get out!