My Fucked Up Life.

I dont understand

You say you need me.

I drop everything I'm doing.
I leave my girlfriend, sitting alone in some coffee shop, and run outside.

I call you.

You answer. Crying.

I shh you and tell you it's okay. I ask you what's wrong.

You whimper that you shouldn't tell me. That I'll just say I told you so.

You say a few more things I can't quite make out.

You hang up, and send me a screenshot of her telling you she wishes she could have back the love she used to have for you.

I panic.

I pace back and forth trying to call you.

I know you're thinking about killing yourself.

I-
I wish you hadn't said.

You had to go. 

I knew you meant something bad.

You had told me a few days ago she was supposed to be FUCKING HELPING you through this and I just.

I call you 23 times between the coffee house and home.

You answer on the 24th.

Geez you say.

In your normal dorky voice.
You don't know.
You couldn't have known.

I thought you were going to fucking kill yourself.

I thought I had LOST you.

I thought you shot-

No.
That's too much to think about.

I thought you died.

I was so close to calling the police. Or your mom. Or her.

But I didn't.

Because you asked me not to.

I thought my best friend was dead.

I don't know if I could handle you dying.

I would listen to that stupid song that makes me think about you all the time and-

It would be true.
I love you.
Asshole.