anything and everything in between

half the conversation

note: this is a real conversation i had at midnight with the boy I'm in love with

...

me: then again, broken crayons still color

him: but then they have less to work with

me: yup. and im starting to think im the smallest piece of crayon left

him: then save that small piece for someone special. then it wouldn't be a waste of a perfectly good color

me: the problem is, i think everyone is special. i hope for the best, even if the colors don't quite go together

him: honestly, i would just jam random colors together. all the same to me

me: but then the artwork doesnt come out as pretty :(

him: i wouldn't care. as long as the work was worth it, it doesnt have to be pretty. just meaningful. but that's just me. do whats right for you

me: but thats what im trying to say. idk what feels right to me. ive gotten it wrong so many times. no one really appreciates my crayon. its like- im no ones favorite color. im only there to fill the box. if that makes sense

him: it does. that's sad. dw bro. i always appreciate your crayon. you're like my favorite color.

me: yeah? that's nice to hear. or read, ig. for what it's worth, you're my favorite color, too