please, please, please

cancel all your plans and come and hold me. tell me you love me, and let me make you happy like i used to.

let me have no need for this denial that i feel slowly subsiding into anger. let me make it better. let it stop hurting, please…


this is not the movies. you will sit in the lobby until your brother comes to get you. you will wear sunglasses to work to hide your swollen eyes.

smarten up, it’s been two whole months. you should understand this by now…

there is no happy ending, only grief in many stages.