the boy, who i never said another word to after i left. who never texted or called me either. there was no being friends. there was no keeping in touch. the silence when i left had been enough proof of that. i hurt him too deep, and i loved him too much to pretend anything else.
the boy, who i still reached out for when i woke up shaking and soaked to the skin with sweat. i had to teach myself that the light was a different colour, that the bed was too big, and he wasn’t there.
seven paragraphs into the update and i already feel like someone’s standing on my chest jfc