a little box with your full name on it, hidden at the top of my closet forever. an emptiness on my finger that is impossible to ignore no matter how much i try. sucks sucks sucks!!!! my day was going well i'm pissed!!!!! and you're probably fine!!!!!! UGH
and like i think i could have so much more closure if i just got to see your face and hear your voice one last time at the end of it all. one more kiss to let you go and i could accept it, even if it made everything hurt worse.
nothing but the smallest box of mementos to pack up. film photos, a handful of dried flowers, your jar, very very few letters. that's all i have. an album on my phone of every picture you ever sent me. there's barely anything here to remember you by
i hate having a totally fine and okay day and then my brain will start up with "do you miss me at all? do you even think about me? is this easy for you? do you even miss me a little?" and i won't ever know the answers and i hate it hate it hate it
i hate not knowing i hate worrying i'm the only one having a hard time even if not every minute of every day is a hard time i hate wanting to just know what you're up to and how you're feeling hate that i have to think about it at all
i’m sure noah kahan is a great guy and all but he’s like hozier for girls who would become republican if their boyfriend gave them a convincing enough argument