Dear Anonymous,
I hate how tense it's become between us. I wish she was with me, I wish we were together. I can't offer her drinks better then liquid gold and a place to sit over text boxes and envelopes. I can't kiss her and let apologies melt out of my throat until the words lose shape and I'm choking on ink. I can't see her eyes, or feel her skin, she's so far away both literally and metaphorically and I can't physically take it.
We can't talk like we used to, I fucked everything up, and I don't want to blame her because she did nothing wrong. She's perfect. She's like a broken star, melting and burning and beautiful.
I miss her, I really miss her.
