Remember when you woke me up in the middle of the night cuz you were drunk and you needed to tell me all the reasons you loved me? You wrote them all down and told me to take a picture because you were too far away to whisper all those little things in my ear whenever I doubted you. It’s been almost a year now and it’s the middle of the night again and you’re no longer the beautiful boy I once knew. You’re a stranger with a new girlfriend and empty eyes. Yet here I am crying over you for what seems to be the millionth time. I miss you. I miss the old you. The you with the easy smile and the awkward boyishness and the laugh that is still my single most favorite sound in the entire world. And it hurts. It hurts so bad knowing that you’re a different person. It hurts so bad knowing she can make you happy. It hurts so bad knowing you’re no longer mine. And it hurts so bad knowing a part of me still loves you and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to burn away that part of me without setting fire to the rest as well. But on nights like these, it almost seems worth it.
By I deleted the picture. I barely even remember what it said anymore.