It’s three am. And here I am.
Laying on the bedroom floor of the room we laughed in, cried in, slept in, made love in, hid from mom in, watched movies in, played video games in, held each other in.
You’re miles away in another state not thinking about any of this. Not giving a flying fuck about how much pain I’m in or how alone I have been. Or how I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night alone.
I wish I could say I have friends that are here for me. Asking me every morning how I’m doing. Or family checking up on me making sure I haven’t done anything stupid yet. But I don’t. And I never will.
But it’s okay, because you have her now, right? The one who likes the same music as you. The one who hates god the way you do. The one who’s dark like you. The one who would rip her clothes off in two seconds just for you.
the one who makes you happier than I can
I can’t fucking breathe.