I am so sorry you fell in love with a writer.

As I sit in this coffee shop and my ears are consumed with guitar strums and voices I've never heard, I realize how unfortunate it must have been for you to fall in love with a writer. I've written you into so many pages of my notebook and even if I set every sheet to flames, my words would still exist in this atmosphere. They will not die when I withdraw. They will not fade when you disappear. You are dangerously out of reach, but you are almost tangible within every heartbroken expression I offer to the air. You will exist throughout every website where I mistakenly proclaimed my love for you. You will occur every time a girl faces her first heartbreak and seeks comfort in my art. You want to die, but you will prevail in every retweet, reblog and share. I know you want to be forgotten just as badly as I do, and I should consider myself lucky that I won't live in the creases of every journal you own.

I am so sorry you fell in love with a writer.