tonight I hysterically cried when the sudden urge to sleep in something of yours came over me but I couldn’t fucking find anything. So I’m crying like a blubbering idiot, fumbling around for something of yours, just so I can breathe, which took me a minute with some mild, over dramatic (for my taste), dry heaving…. I ended up finding a pair of boxers which I shamefully reside in now.

I really thought it was starting to not hurt and I genuinely kid myself when I say I’m not angry at you anymore. I want you to feel every bit of pain I’ve felt, I want your head through the wall and I want someone to hate every bit of you.
Yet I feel so guilty at the same time for ever wanting or thinking those things because I will always love you..
I stand like you did in the shower and I always sleep on your side now.. I mimic you because I miss you and who was I to say I don’t miss you because fuck it really I am you.