Letters to Louis | l.t

3.21.15

4:11 a.m

Dear Louis,

I haven't gotten any sleep lately. Sam stopped by today and pointed out the dark circles under my eyes, she tried to get me to talk to her but I wouldn't say a word. Then she started talking about you saying that I should move on and I lost it. I started yelling telling her that you would come back and she yelled at me telling me that he wouldn't and I started crying again. I told her to get out and to never come back and she left. I walked to the bathroom and pulled out my blade that was on the sink and sat on the ledge of the tub. I made three slashes on my wrist them eaching stinging, hurting like a bitch, but then I instantly felt guilty because I remembered the time you found the scars on my wrist.

It was one of the first times we hung out. We were out your house lying on you bed my head on your chest watching the movie that was playing on your tv. You then pointed out that I had alot of bracelets on my wrist. I asked you why you painted your walls blue trying to change the subject, but you wouldn't let it go. You asked if I ever took them off and I nodded. You then asked if I would take them off and I panicked my heart stopping at your words. I finally found someone who wants to be friends with me and my scars are about to ruin the only friendship I have ever really had. I vigoriously shook my head no but you pulled my arm in your hand and slowly started taking off my bracelets one by one. And I didn't stop you.

Soon enough my wrist was bare and you saw the scars that were hidden by my bracelets. I saw tears filling your blue eyes and you just stared at them. My heart shattered when you whispered a why you sounded like you were in pain and I didn't know why. Why would you care I thought. I wasn't used to anyone ever really caring and it was all new to me. You looked at me this time showing me your teary blue eyes you whispered a why again and I shook my head not saying anything. I looked down at my lap in shame. But soon enough I was looking at you again in shock when you brought your lips to my scars and kissed each and everyone of them. Your lips left soft kisses on the damaged skin making my heart flutter at the gesture. When you were done you looked up at me and I asked why you did that. 

And you responded that each kiss was sorry for not being there when it happened

I'm crying again at the memory. I imagine your pink, plump, lips leave kisses on my new scars. But you aren't here to kiss the pain away. 

Why did you have to leave?

love,

your ella