Darling.

I miss him like I am lightyears away, not miles. It fits; I can't breathe can't sleep can't eat. I want to godmake a version of me who never learned to believe promises. I want to coldquit him but without the withdrawal. I want to stop composing symphonies in the long insomniac nights because all they do is remind me of playing Sufjan Stevens in the background so he would know I remembered to listen, and so I could cover up the sound of crashing into him (like the oceans we talked about seeing and never saw.)

He sharpened his edges until they broke me. We all bleed the same, but god: I've never seen him bleed at all.