i) when jasey left you called me over and we hid under your duvet while your heart broke into little pieces with frank sinatra playing in the background. "I guess some things just can't be fixed, huh" you mumbled, and I held you while we sat on your rooftop hurtling your aching heart into the night sky. That was the first time I saw your entire being crumble, the first time I saw tremors shoot down your back as your chest caved in, the first time I saw your hands tremble around the neck of the ***** bottle you stole from your dad. You fell asleep in my lap that night, cheeks sanguine and burning from the alcohol and usually I think about the stars when it's that late but at 3 in the morning all I could think about was why anyone would want to leave somebody like you.

ii) two weeks later, it rained so heavily I thought the windows were going to break and so I called you up to say the clouds were angry with jasey for breaking your heart. Then I turned my phone off, curled up in bed with my favorite sweater; eyes closed, fists clenched, warm heart and cheap wine. I knew you would never love me the way you loved her, and I was trying to be okay with that.

iii) on Tuesday, we hung out by the park, and the benches were cold but your hands were warm so I didn't mind at all when you slid them up my satin blouse, or when your lips pressed themselves against mine, weaving in and out like tapestry. At that moment, you were the sun, and every inch of skin you touched seemed to burn, but I didn't really care until I felt you crumple into me; your body convulsing with heartache, salt water gushing down my chest. "I still love her," you said, and I just lay there, bare back on damp grass, looking up into the darkness, wondering if love was supposed to make our hearts hurt this bad.