I wonder what you think when you hear my name.
I never feel more lonely than when I’m sick in bed with no one to take care of me.
"I want you to remember who you are, despite the bad things that are happening to you. Because those bad things aren’t you. They are just things that happen to you. You need to accept that who you are and the things that happen to you are not one and the same."
I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.
You’ve made too much of an impact on me.
That being said, we are better off apart. My life has gotten significantly better since you’re no longer in it, since you’ve moved away.
"I think I’m more afraid of what doesn’t kill me, than I am of what will finally do me in."
I can actually see it in your face. I can see how little you care about me.
"I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours."
How do you read all this and not ask if I’m okay?