i love being this high. 
where i can't feel a thing. 
but i can feel everything, all at once, every fiber of my being I can feel. 
i don't know if this is a good thing. 
all i can think about were those morning **** rips with your family, 
margarita night with your mom. 
i loved the **** out of you, and that was always the problem wasn't it? 
i accepted too much, i had seen too much of you. 
always one for mystery. 
i miss how your breathe felt on my neck. 
I miss how your eyes looked in the morning, my ******* vampire of a man. 
covered in me, and you, and us. 
and that one mistake of a afternoon. 
 and everything you tried to fake. 
you can't fake something like that. 
you can't fake the way my hands felt on your neck in the early hours of the day. 
it's okay, though. 
it turned out better than we had ever thought possible.