My dear boy, don’t you know? When I am doubled over in pain, eyes watering, puking, trying not to scream out of pure agony, that I am trying to think of questions to ask you. That between these waves of hopeless misery I am reaching for my phone to message them to you. Don’t you know that’s how I deal with it? When people ask me how I do it, month after month, day after day, toilet filled with the nutrients I involuntarily gave, I smile and say I don’t know, but in reality it’s you. Even when we didn’t speak it was you. You’re my strength and my weakness and I’m still trying to figure out who that’s possible.


To the boy who has my heart.

To the boy who has my heart. Thank you. You’ve had my heart since I was five and you were six and I had the biggest crush on you. You crushed my heart then when you moved across town, only to be seen during school hours. Thank you. You reminded my heart what it felt like to skip a beat when I was twelve and you were thirteen and all I wanted was to be the one who was in love. You hurt me with feelings for another, more perfect girl. Thank you. You stole every piece of my mind and heart at thirteen when you moved down the street from me. You became my best friend. My go to. The boy I was in love with. You tormented me as you fell in love with another. Thank you. You stole every thought, every heartbeat, every fear, every pain away when I was fifteen and you were almost sixteen. You love my broken, shattered pieces and it amazes me. You love the pieces of me I absolutely hate. You love me when I can’t even look in the god damn mirror. Thank you. Please be careful with me.. I’m fragile, damaged, one wrong move and I may not survive. Be fragile with me for all of the times I can’t be for myself. Thank you.. I love you. I always have and always will.