“People always say that it hurts at night”
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.
“I hate you for giving up on me. I hate you for giving up on us. I hate you for hurting me. I hate you for making me cry. I hate you for leav...”