Dear You,
After you broke my heart into a million shiny pieces, I cried. A lot. I still cry, sometimes. It's funny, I'll cry at random times, like when I'm in my room watching t.v. You broke my heart into a million pieces, and sometimes it feels like you just want to step on them, make them harder to pick back up and put back together.
I try of course. Seeing you at school everyday doesn't seem to help much, not to mention the fact that I've loved you for so damn long it feels natural to watch you from a distance and not want to get to close in fear that you'll see me and walk far away. Damn that sounds stalker-ish. But it isn't. I feel like I have to watch over you.
It isn't like I'm a guardian angel or anything, nothing like that, you're more physically protective of me than you ever have been before you broke up with me, like my feelings are the most delicate things in the world. Like a few weeks ago, you chopped that guy Austin in our choir class for calling me trailer trash because you knew I wouldn't do anything to him myself but use foul language. So you defended my honor. Why, just last week, my head was hurting so bad, and you took me home you big softie.
If I didn't know any better, which I do, I would think that you loved me.
-A
