The Girl Archives.

Morning.

I'm so sorry. I can barely breathe at the thought of you, looking at you is even harder, it's as if my chest is filling up with liquid and I can't fucking ask for help because I'm too busy gasping for air.
Looking at you hurts, because I want to say something to you, I have so much to say to you but I just can't put it into words. Seeing you is like seeing something that's endangered because after living in the same town as you, for a year and a half and I can count how many times I've seen you on one hand. That's why when do see you it hurts. It's like a tidal wave of every single emotion I had for you that I buried came back and it's smothering me and I can't fucking control it. Normally I can bury them again if it was anyone else, but you make me feel alive in the worst way.
I'm sitting across from you now. Your hair is that wild curly mess it always is, and you've got one leg up on the seat in front of you, with that green jacket you always wear. Your shoes are untied but still staying on somehow. And you look drained. But you look better than you did that night.
See it's harder for me because you don't think about it, normally I don't but I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I'm buried in sand, just having flashbacks. My dreams of you turned to nightmares and the soft thoughts of you I used to have have turned into scorching sand.
It's heartbreaking. Because the beautiful girl I saw, turning into someone who used people, and more importantly, a junkie.