Hey. I know it's been too long, and I should write more, but when the thought of you sits heavy in my chest like dark water, it's hard. I'm sat on the floor of my room. I can hear faint echoes of music rising from the floor below me. And. For a second, I'm back walking up to him at the steps of the old Salvation Army. This boy from my film class who I hardly even know, but he smiles like starlight and it sends me spinning. My heart beating itself into my throat. With such ferocity that I fear I might choke. On it, on my feelings. So I swallow hard and bite my tongue and smile. He looks at me and I think he knows what I'm hiding. Because that hug seems to last a lifetime,

His laughter echoes around the hallowed halls of my empty bedroom. His smile spreading so wide, That in my mind. It threatens to shatter his cheekbones. In my mind, I'm back at the pier. Head on his shoulder, Trailing my fingers like spiders legs up his chest.

His name is the only thing which made the alphabet matter to me,
Counting out the syllables of his name. Like " Hail Marys ". Like prayer beads, like a god might actually be listening to me. But. Every time we sit on the phone together. He's always so patient.
You gathered up all the shattered shards of my broken glass heart. And helped me to sticky tape it back together again. You gave me the space to open up. And as we sat there. Sifting through the memories. I'd find an embarrassing one. As soon as I'd show it to you. You would say " I'd have done it too ".

Sometimes. Sometimes I look up at the stars and I really hope you can see me right now. We both know neither of us ever believed in an afterlife but right now, while he's holding my hand, and making me laugh, I hope you can see. I hope you're smiling because lord knows I miss your smile.

He makes me so happy, like a million tissue paper butterflies fluttering in my chest, like my world stops spinning. Like he scooped my heart out of my chest and told me he'd keep it safe. And before you get all protective, he is keeping it safe.

When I walk with him, at night, when nothing but the stars are watching over our love. The comforting hum of his breath. Buried deep within his chest. Like a subway train pulling into the station.
As we walked past that takeaway. His face is drenched in blue neon light and it just about looks like a halo if I squint hard enough. And for a second, I believe we are both holy and divine.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record,
I love him,
I love him,
I love him.

Meet me in the afterglow,
When the soft sun sets on sandy beaches,
Cerulean blue sea water, filtering through pebbles,

Meet me in the afterglow,
In some quaint American suburban town,
Where you can speed down roads lit by neon diner signs,
Which drip their colours onto the rain-soaked pavement,
Leaning out of the windows,
Wind in our hair,

Meet me in the afterglow.

At two in the morning,
I shimmy up your drainpipe,
And tap gently on your window,
Waiting for you to open it.

There you stand,
All tired eyes and bed hair,
I sit, perched on your window ledge,
A sparkle in my eye and mud and leaves raked through my hair,
Your gaze shifts to behind me,
And you ask me why,

You looked bewildered,
And I just say " remember that time, I told you I would do anything for you,"?
And you nod,
So I keep on talking,
You always just let me talk, never correcting me or looking bored,
And I say " I told you I would do anything, even move mountains for you, "

And with that statement, a look of recollection washes over your face,
Your gaze shifts from me and to the looming shadow behind me,
" You... you brought me a mountain ", your voice shattering the wall of silence between us,

This mass of rock and dirt which sits patiently by your window,
That I brought to you,
This symbol of love, this symbol of what I would do for you,

As I shimmy my way through your window, and stand there,
" It's all that stands between us and the world " I whisper.

I never really had a favourite colour until I met her,
And when she said hers was red,
And that was when red became mine too,
Because now I see her in every sunset,
Every time I pick a wild strawberry,
I can feel her holding my hand,
Every time she puts her hand on my chest,
And she can feel my heartbeat,
That's the colour that comes to the surface,
As her fingertips trail like a sentence never finished.
Each time I hold her against me,
Like I never want to let go,
That's the colour of her pulse.

Red was never my favourite colour,
Until she told me it was hers.

They tell me just to go with the flow,
But that's easier said than done when you are swimming against the current,
They tell me that when you are in a body of water,
Take one deep breath and you'll float on the surface with ease,

About how gentle it would be, like going to sleep,
So I think about how easy that would be,
If I could just inhale once and float on a sea of my problems,

But then I remember how if you are under a body of water,
And you take a deep breath,
You will immediately flood your lung,
Starving your body of oxygen and suffocating,
Dying this way is like going to sleep, apparently,

As I am typing this, I contemplate how thin the line is in this case,

Between drowning and floating.