I laid on my bed, once again in the middle of the night, sobbing uncontrollably. My headphones blasted 'Weightless' by Washed Out, the band he showed me. I listened to it on repeat whenever I had the chance, it was the one thing besides him in the flesh that could remind me of him and fix what broke when he was away. I could probably lay out a whole playlist of songs I cant listen to anymore, because the memories hurt too much to relive. I just laid there in a pool of my tears for a while, regretting and regretting what I had done earlier and regretting ever meeting him; briefly. Then I went back to worshipping him like the god that I believed he was. And I was still extremely broken.
