for the person who breaks my heart the hardest.

this one is an actual letter that will never, ever be sent. it's also extremely late. 20 out of a 30 day challenge.

i swore to myself i'd never write to you.
because that would make all of it too real.
and if this ever gets to you, well.
i guess i can just hope for the best,
because if i were to lose you before our time was up,
i simply wouldn't be okay.

i've thought about you every day since i met you.
the attitude behind the thoughts changes.
sometimes by the hour, sometimes by the day.
but one thing always stays the same:
i love you. with all of me.
i shouldn't, but i do. and it runs so deep.
i can't cut it out, i can't bleed it out.
i can't smoke it out, i can't drink it out.
but god, i wish i could.
and god knows i've tried.

because i spend every night wondering if you'll be alive in the morning.
and i spend every day wondering if you're disappearing again.
and i spend every moment we're together missing you.
you might stand next to me, or lay with me, or tickle me,
and i miss you so much it almost kills me with every breath.
i've told you all of this, and you said something along the lines of,
"i know. you know damn well i care about you. i've always come back."
and, of course, you're right. about all of it. you're always right.

"sarah, you tell me everything. always."
of course, you're right. since the beginning, i've told you everything.
every thought i have, every crazy theory, every ridiculous dream.
you know it all. and you know you know it all, and that's even worse.
you know me better than i know myself, and you keep me in line.
i like to say that's why i keep you around, but it's more than that.
you keep me as sane as i'm going to be, and all i want is to please you.

i ask you too many questions, most of them stupid, but i can't help it.
i just want to hear your voice, all the time, as much as possible.
because i know one day i'll never, ever hear it again. and that, well.
that's not something i like to think about.

i waste too much gas and create bullshit reasons and eat too much,
just to keep you in the passenger seat of my car. your seat.
because i know one day you won't sit in it again.
and it's your seat, now. it doesn't look right with someone else in it.
i play your music too loud and let you kick my radio when it skips,
because i can't say no to you, and you know it.

i can't lie to you, either. not successfully.
i can bullshit my way around my reasons for texting you,
but you've got me figured out. you know when i'm avoiding.
you let me do it anyway.

i've told you before, but i'll say it here too.
i love listening to you sing. you don't it that often, but.
i like to pretend that maybe, you only sing with me.
i also like to pretend that maybe, i know you a little.
i don't hold a candle to dylan, of course. i know that much.
but...i like to pretend i'm special, to you.

you used to call me babe, and baby, and tell me good night.
"good night, love you, sleep well," i'd say. and you'd say,
"good night, i love you too. get some sleep tonight."
and well, i guess if i said it to you know you'd say it back.
and you'd mean it, because i now you'd always tell the truth.
but i can't bring myself to, because you're so empty now.

you've always been the apathetic one of the bunch,
but it's different now, and everyone's noticed it.
and i hate it, because i can't let you go. they have, but i can't.
so i see the difference in your eyes, and live for when they light up again.
but a part of me dies every second they aren't.
it's so infrequent, these days. i wish i was the one who could wake you up.

the funniest part about all of this is i don’t want you.
i don’t dare want you as mine.
everyone asks me if we’re dating. if you’re my boyfriend.
i end up telling them three, four times, “no. i don’t want him.”
and they end up believing me, but they still see it.
and i want to break everyone into little pieces for that.
because they can see it, i can feel it, and i want nothing to do with it.
i’d give you anything you’d ever ask me for.
and that scares me, so much, but i haven’t left you yet.
because you’re leaving me, anyway.
manhattan, california, europe.
death.

it doesn’t matter how, when, or why. i love you now, i loved you then, i will always love you.
i’ll never know if i’m in love with you, because life will never give us a chance.
life is kind of a really smart m**********r, but i hate it all the same.
it gave you to me and constantly threatens to take you away on a cloud of ecstasy.
or shrooms, or acid, or pot, or alcohol.

and what i just realized, this very second, is that whenever we hug and i say goodbye?
you say, “see you later.”
please tell me that’s a promise.

please.