my mom told me that you called the other night.

i must admit, i panicked because the other day i thought i saw you with another girl in the park.

you’re doing even more than you thought. you’re definitely alive, and you told me you weren’t.

i hope you find sunshine there. you were always happier outside and under sun’s glow.

it does hurt that you’ll be on the other side of the county, but i think it will be good. i hope it will be good.

good luck.

i realized the other day that every single hope and dream i confessed to you came true, but you aren’t here to see it. i want you to be, but you can’t be bothered. i guess you’re too busy with her. that’s fine.

dear god i'm a demon

i thought i knew pain and anguish but nothing has pained me more than reading those poems and wondering if they were for me

or for her.

i was afraid that you would tell everyone about him. it is the only secret you know that no one else on earth does. please don't tell anyone.

i get that you left. i get it. i've...gotten over it. accepted it. whatever. but please. don't tell anyone. and remember that she is dangerous and i left for a reason.

though maybe you have said the same thing about me.

i don't know if you know this, but you always show up when i need you to. i don't think you plan it that way. it just happens.

it just happened.

i swear, i swear it always starts out fine. you and me, me and you and everything is fine. it's not me and you it's me. and you. see the difference?

it just happened.

i don't know if you notice it like i do. i think you do, and you pull away every time you realize it. i think i regret that one time i told you to think with the right head when

it just happened.

i think she's really pretty. you seem to be happy with her. then again, i thought you were happy with the last one, too. i guess it's not that simple. and maybe you be able to be truthful with her instead of last time where we couldn't control it.

it just happened.

i just wish you would stop jerking me around like this. as soon as i think i'm safe, i'm free, i'm alive! you pull me back in with some stupid line like "you're the only reason i like going" and then i smile and text back and it-it.

it just happens.

i've tried to start writing again a dozen times. at least. but i think of every single one of you every time.

most people view writing as a release. some sort of blissful experience where letting their fears flow out of their minds and onto a paper is relaxing. detoxifying. some sort of therapy that they can provide for themselves that no one else can.

i don't.

writing is protection. writing is a safety net that causes suffocation. writing is hiding behind ink that can just barely be traced back to your own true thoughts and words.

writing is you. writing was never me.

but that's why i cling to it so tightly, isn't it?