May 15, 2017 4:02pm

Two nights ago, I got up to go to bed and collapsed on my way through the kitchen. It's never been easy getting over you, and that night was no exception. I was just on the floor with the lights off. Sobbing into my knees, picturing you holding me and begging me not to cry. And that was my only solace.

I still have a piece of the puzzle you bought me, it's on a piece of leather cording, being used as a makeshift choker. Whenever I miss you, I tie it around my neck so tight I can barely breathe. Every time I take it off there is a red indention in my skin. But, it comforts me, because my mind drifts back to that day and I'm happy for a moment. I wish I could still sleep in your sweatshirt. It wouldn't smell like you anymore but I don't think you understand how safe it made me feel.

I'll never forget the sound of your voice, and that just makes me want to hear it. It's been over half a year since I last saw you and it kills me every second. I want to stare into your eyes through something other than a computer screen.

I haven't cried over you in eleven days. That's a lie but I can't remember exactly when the real last time I cried over you was. But, if it's any consolation I rarely cry myself to sleep anymore. I just cry when I wake up instead. And during my sleep.

I still don't think I'm as sad as I was six months ago but I could be better I guess. But, I don't mind feeling like this because you are a comfortable sadness. For, when I miss things like your fingers running through my hair or entangled in my own fingers I realize, a part of me is missing, but it can come back.

And yes, our story could've been beautiful if we'd lasted. In all honesty it's still beautiful but it's the sad kind. The kind that describes two people so very much in love but they find different ways to not go back to it. Both self-destructive, but yours is a girl who treats you badly and mine is cigarettes, alcohol and bleeding your touch out of my skin. It could still be the inspiring kind of beautiful. The kind where we learn to stop being afraid of what we feel for each other and just try again. I want to tell you that if I had known our last kiss would be our last I would've held on for a little bit longer.

The thing you need to understand is, love is not just a feeling. It's not butterflies and quickening heartbeats. It's fighting tooth and nail to keep each other, whether it's against ourselves or the whole goddamn world. And at times like this unloving you gets lonely without having you around, because I'll always love you with no reason why. So, please tell me I meant something.

I always want to talk to you. No matter what I'm doing or who I'm with, you are the only thing in my head. Why? Simply because I love it. I love talking to you. I love how we talk about the most random things. I love how we lose track of our original topics. I know it sounds ridiculous but you're on my mind all the time.

The thing is, I know I was never the greatest and I was never close to being perfect. My hair was constantly a mess. My eyes were always wide and surrounded by purple rings. My lips were always bitten to hell and sometimes they bled because I have no comprehension of enough harm. But, you never cared one way or the other. Sometimes I wore too much make up and others not enough. Or I was covered in scars and these flaws always affected me. But, when you told me I was beautiful, despite my protests I believed you. I believed that I was. 

So, I try to write so I won't break down. But then I find you written in every sentence. You're so deep in my veins.

I just want to be with you. It's as simple and as complicated as that.