i wrote a letter a little over a year ago and that's the first word.
its about you.
it was about how much i wanted you to love me, and not someone else.
its been a year and now i'm wishing you had loved someone else more than anything.
its been a year and the subject
is still you.
so,
hands.
i sit here with my shaky fucking hands.
i sit here with these hands wanting to conduct them to reach out and grab something that i can no longer feel.
these shaky fucking hands.
a year ago my hands were shaking because i
was nervous to see you.
i loved it.
i loved feeling like i was going to puke
because the anxiousness inside me
knew i couldn't wait.
its been a year and the pit in my stomach is there.
not because i'm nervous to see you.
well, i am.
but not for the right reasons.
the pit is there because my anxiety flares
because i dont know how
to live without you.
i dont know how to begin again.
you took
everything from me.
and i feel like i'm going to die before
i have the chance
to get it all back.
my hands.
they won't stop shaking.
its been a few months since i told you i couldn't be with you
anymore.
i dont want to miss you.
