dear x,
i will probably never be happy.
but i know-- i know, x-- that i will never be happy without you. so just stop wasting our time and realize that you should be spending your afternoons with me, bound for the horizon and singing your favorite song against my neck. today was one of those perfect days that we will be nostalgic for, years from now; i'll show you the pictures of today's morning rainstorm and the spring afternoon sunshine and us holding hands under a cloudless evening sky.
the heartbreaking reality is, x, that this love letter is too late. we passed the point, so long ago now, of finding safety and comfort in each others' company. i know you're thinking of her. you know i'm remembering my world before you. but you know it's conceiving of a world without that makes me heavy with melancholy and blame.
love,
a.
i really fucked it up this time
didn't i, my dear?
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