Dear Inspiration,
I don't think about you much anymore, only when I wake up, when I fall asleep. Only then.
He helps me, you know? Makes me feel kind of whole again. I don't like him like I liked you, and I won't love him like I still love you so don't worry. Not that you would, you have her. But he makes me forget, for a while.
Nothing will make me forget completely because every time my pen hovers over my notepad like a UFO would a cornfield, it's you that's suffocating my thoughts and not him. It'll always be you, for god sake. It's sad though, because he cares so much, so so much and I'm strung up on the thought of me and you. Me and you.
I want to die, that's not anyone's fault, it's just me. But, he can't help me like you can. He has to use words, you could just... exist and I'd be forever okay but that's just not how it is anymore is it?
I miss you, my inspiration. I've let go but I haven't moved on.
