When we met I was bruised, I was bitter, and I felt broken beyond repair. You picked me up and right in the middle of healing my wounds, kissing my scars, and making me forgive myself for every mistake, you told me the truth. You were never meant to save me; you came here so I could save you.

-bcg (its funny, we both came for help, and we ended up breaking eachother all over again)

Convince him to get a new hair cut and when he does, notice the way it doesn't frame his face the way it used to and how his shaved head reminds you of your cousin who, as your mom said, enlisted too young. Listen to him, really listen to him when he talks and watch the way his mouth automatically turns to a smile after every single sentence he utters. Make note of every time he laughs at his own joke. When he tosses you a compliment picture his last person and how they must have felt when he tossed the same line to them. As you're lying in bed try to recall the time before he called you his and consider how long you wanted him. Remember the way you memorized his drink orders and the sweater he always wore on Tuesday. Realize that you stopped memorizing him the day he confessed to memorizing you. Bring him to social gatherings and become annoyed with the way he clings to you. Catch him staring at you at least three times in one day and when the day is over compare that number to the zero amount of times you found yourself gazing his way. His voice will come to annoy you and it is important that instead of shutting it out, you let it in. Eventually this annoyance will turn into hatred so you have to let every word sink in. Don't listen to your friends tell you how nice he is and ignore the voice in your head telling you that you have to be happy because he treats you right, unlike the last one. Let it finally hit you that you no longer like him, when you find yourself at 2am crying, in a dark room illuminated only by the light of a computer screen displaying the last picture you have of the man you actually love.

Don’t wish for love. Wish for happiness.
And never, ever confuse the two.

Dear him,

You aren’t the reason I end my nights on the floor. You aren’t the reason I wear long sleeves. You aren’t the reason the food is left on my plate after every meal. You aren’t the reason there are some days I simply cannot get out of bed.  You aren’t the reason I left.

Never blame yourself.

You are the reason I still have good days. You are the reason I wear my hair down instead of up. You are the reason there are stars in my dull, lifeless eyes. You are the reason not every smile is fake. You are the reason I wanted to stay.

Always love yourself.

Love,
her

-----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------

Give it to him after I’m gone. Please tell him I loved him, I loved him so **** much. I know he won’t understand why that wasn’t enough, but you have to make him understand that the pain inside me was too much. I loved him, but I had to choose myself in the end.

I'm trying to train my fingers to dial numbers other than yours.

//

but when the late night thoughts hit,

there is only one phone number I can recall



and it’s yours

because it has always been yours.

Getting those blue eyes out of my head is taking more than praying and I just feel stupid because I'm pleading to a God that I don't even believe in. Hitting my head against the metaphorical wall of the memories included in, "you and I," and it’s slowly killing my self-esteem until I have nothing left, I barely even have anything left of me.

"I still love you."

-bcg (kingdoms would fall to their knees before my love for you would crumble)

“-----, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending. I love you and I care about you and even though I’m trying to play it cool and act like I don’t care, you are everything to me. And the worst part is, I think you know that. I think you know that you can change my mood in one sentence, in one unreturned call. Yet you still don’t give a ****. And you know what, ----- I deserve more. I deserve more than spending my nights in a puddle of blood on the bathroom floor because you hurt me so much I had to hurt myself for my body to understand it. And I used to know that I deserve more, but somewhere between you being a stranger and you being my all, I forgot that I deserve better.
I know I told you I could handle it. I know you think I can be okay with always being your second choice. And I know you think I’m cynical and that I don’t believe in white horses and princes and fairytale endings. But I do, -----, I do. I know you think because of all the **** I’ve been through I’ve learned that nothing ever turns out okay, there is never a happy ending. But I haven’t, -----, I haven’t given up. I still have hope and I know it’s naïve and I know it’s stupid, but I still have hope that maybe, just maybe, someday you will choose me and you will keep choosing me for the rest of our lives.”

-the drunken, “just saying hi,” message left on the answering machine at 2am