This is what heartbreak looks like.

It is the soliloquies you wrote to him at midnight while crying

It is the formality a smile and the absence of warmth

It is the nausea and the ***** because this mornings breakfast just didn't have the heart to stay with you

He didn't either

This is what heartbreak sounds like.

Silence
Breaking
Static

This is what heartbreak feels like.

The burn of your concerned friends eyes into your back

The burn of the shame tinging your cheeks red

This is what heartbreak is.

You
Me
But not us

Never us

You talk of killing yourself as one would of getting a glass of water:
normally,
casually.

You are sarcastic, and in this, too, there is sarcasm, but it's undertone is real. Honest.

So of course, you scare me.

It does not take long before you ask the question I dread:
Would you miss me if I were dead?

Because I want to know what the hell kind of question that is.

Stupid question, heartless question, yes I'd miss you if you were dead.

Stupid, because we're friends, because I know you, because I like you.

Heartless, because do you really think I care for you so little that I'd wish you away?

Nothing matters now, though.
It's been asked,
It's been answered.

So long as you do me a favor.
Just one - no more, no less.

And don't discount this, the way you always do,
saying everybody dies, not everybody dies by choice.

Stay alive, will you?
For as long as you possibly can?

Who am I to dictate, what you can and cannot do.
Who am I to force you, to live in a world you cannot stand.

But for me, for the others, for everyone who says we'll miss you, please,

*Hold out as long as you can stand.

I opened my camera roll and started viewing photos of me, all of them, from the oldest one to the newest one, from our first picture taken together to the very last.

Before losing you:
In the old pictures I saw an innocent little girl with not a care in the world, with a big shiny smile that radiated nothing but happiness, genuine happiness.
Her eyes reflected a light that could brighten up a whole city and you could tell they were under the beautiful spell of being in love, of loving someone whole-heartedly

After losing you:
I noticed something different in the most recent pictures, I saw a broken and confused little girl, with pinkish eyes like they've been crying too much and with dark spots under them, with chapped lips and a pale face.
I saw that her smile wasn't real, and I noticed she was hiding her tears and has been doing that for maybe too long
I saw a completely different girl, one with her heart torn apart. Her eyes screamed a name and begged for his comfort, his touch and the sound of his voice.  

You changed me, losing you changed me. And that's sadly how it goes: Pain, it has the devastating and horribly over whelming power to change people, and there's absolutely nothing we can do about it.