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To whomever is the next unlucky boy to momentarily fall in love with me,      You should know, that when I fall, I do not simply slip down a step on the stairs. I plunge into the depths of the ocean, sink to the bottom of the mariana trench.      I will relinquish my heart, body, and soul to you. Whether you reciprocate or not, I will give myself to you completely, let you see my soft spots and my rough patches, the lines around my eyes and the fat on my thighs, the scars on my wrist and the hair on my arms.      You will give me an inch in return for my mile, but it will be the most precious inch I have ever seen.      I will say I love you too soon, but I will mean it with every fiber of my being.      When you lie through your teeth I will believe you, because you will have told me that you will not lie. I will always believe you.      For a few months everything will be perfect. Then I will try to formally gift you my soul, unpatch it to show you my all. You will look at it with pity, refuse to meet my eyes for a week. Eventually, I will find it buried in the trash, between moldy red apples and an empty box.      You will say that you love me. I will quietly beg you to show me, to prove yourself. You will pretend not to hear, and I will believe it is my fault for screaming so loud that you went deaf. You will silently agree. To the next unlucky boy who briefly falls in love with me,      You will say that you've fallen out of love.      I will cry,      say I hate you, I will never speak to you again.      Sometimes we will pass each other, I will do my best to avoid it, but I will look you in the eyes. For a moment I will feel the chords between us that I cut connect again. I will have to cut them again.      I will tell myself I do not love you, that I never did,      But I will never stop. I have a collection full of every unlucky boy who has ever had the misfortune of falling in love with me. If I was to fall off a building  like humpty dumpty you would see their names are tattooed on the grey matter inside my skull, engraved on every bone in my body. My body will move on, but the memory will never leave me.
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Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
Letter to an Imaginary Boy
To whomever is the next unlucky boy to momentarily fall in love with me,      You should know, that when I fall, I do not simply slip down a step on the stairs. I plunge into the depths of the ocean, sink to the bottom of the mariana trench.      I will relinquish my heart, body, and soul to you. Whether you reciprocate or not, I will give myself to you completely, let you see my soft spots and my rough patches, the lines around my eyes and the fat on my thighs, the scars on my wrist and the hair on my arms.      You will give me an inch in return for my mile, but it will be the most precious inch I have ever seen.      I will say I love you too soon, but I will mean it with every fiber of my being.      When you lie through your teeth I will believe you, because you will have told me that you will not lie. I will always believe you.      For a few months everything will be perfect. Then I will try to formally gift you my soul, unpatch it to show you my all. You will look at it with pity, refuse to meet my eyes for a week. Eventually, I will find it buried in the trash, between moldy red apples and an empty box.      You will say that you love me. I will quietly beg you to show me, to prove yourself. You will pretend not to hear, and I will believe it is my fault for screaming so loud that you went deaf. You will silently agree. To the next unlucky boy who briefly falls in love with me,      You will say that you've fallen out of love.      I will cry,      say I hate you, I will never speak to you again.      Sometimes we will pass each other, I will do my best to avoid it, but I will look you in the eyes. For a moment I will feel the chords between us that I cut connect again. I will have to cut them again.      I will tell myself I do not love you, that I never did,      But I will never stop. I have a collection full of every unlucky boy who has ever had the misfortune of falling in love with me. If I was to fall off a building  like humpty dumpty you would see their names are tattooed on the grey matter inside my skull, engraved on every bone in my body. My body will move on, but the memory will never leave me.
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16
It was all there in the letter, there in his scribbled handwriting like flyshit on paper. She held the letter and stared at it. The words almost jumped out at her. The meanings like daggers piercing her heart and head. The unfaithfulness all there in black and white. Makes sense now, those nights away. That air he had about him, that dull, yet anxiousness in gesture and manner. So he was bonking her, that skinny ***** at the office. Now they've fled, gone elsewhere to settle down as a pretend Mr & Mrs. Just his name, no at the bottom kisses. She watched as her fingers shook; the paper rattled before her eyes. Those nights away, his lies. Bet he thought he could get away with it, the **** She folded up the letter, and tore it up in two, then in two again. She placed it in the garbage bin, and let the lid drop with a clang. She imagined him and her some place, that skinny ***** that punched look she had about her face, the way she walked with that wiggling backside. She thought about it, what was in the letter, his words, his lies, and the sound of buzzing flies.
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 2:48 AM UTC
LILY'S LETTER.