There's a little bit of you in everything I write.
Some days I just want to cry...
Is it all the people that I've left behind? Or all the ones I could never quite catch up to? Perhaps it's the heaviness of the sky that's weighing me down.
Days like this... I just want to curl up on the couch, curl in on myself. And breathing seems like terribly hard work.
And yet, beneath it all, I know I have things to be happy about. People who love me. People that I love.
Still... I'm even more screwed up than I first imagined. These wounds go deeper than the eye can see. It's on these days that I miss him, that screwed up boy that I loved. Who loved me. Held a knife to my throat and said 'just kidding'.
It's fucked up to miss shit like that. I realize it; no need to tell me.
But he was my first kiss. The first person, not a member of my family or a friend, who thought I was worth something. And that means something, I think. This lightness, this heaviness. It means something.
It has to.