History Is All You Left Me

it’s too soon. It will always be too soon. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. We both know that’s bullshit; it comes from people who have nothing comforting or original to say. But I wonder if others keep up with this lie because they don’t want to speak the harsh truth. The wound never closes and the pain remains, always piercing, always burning, always suffocating, always bleeding.

Love. I love you; this isn’t a past-tense love.

This universe I’m stuck in gets worse and worse: all this history, and I can’t possibly have a future with this guy any more than I can have one with you.

don’t know what will be left of me if love and grief can’t bring you back to life. Maybe I need to be brought back to life, too.

We were something, but history isn’t enough to keep something alive forever.

One of the lessons I’ve learned over and over since our breakup and your death is how the pain becomes physical.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds. We both know that’s bullshit

Love. I love you; this isn’t a past-tense love

You kept me alive when we were apart. I promise I’ll always do the same for you

Everything I did for him I did for me, too, because it made me happy to see him happy. That’s not obsession, you dickhead, it’s love