letters to jen

nineteen

{9th december 2012}

dear jen,

i don't know what to write.

the words should come tumbling, fall straight onto the page, why won't they come, tell me jen, why won't they come?

i feel sick. i feel sick and tired, i feel ill, i feel sick, i'm watching the ink on the page and i'm watching it run as i cry, why can't i stop crying, fuck it, everything is such a mess, jen, such a fucking mess, jesus christ, why can't i stop crying, i just want it to stop, i want to stop, i want to stop crying, i want her back, i miss her i miss her i miss her fuck-

i feel like drowning. i feel like i am drowning. maybe i should drown. maybe i shouldn't. maybe i should close my eyes and wait, wait wait wait wait, wait for her to come back, wait for the part people tell you comes eventually, the part where you can smile again and not think about them all the time and not cry yourself to sleep, maybe i should wait for that part, i'm waiting for that part, it's been a fucking year now jen, why won't that part come?

i feel like i will spend my whole life waiting. i will wait to stop seeing a therapist and i will wait to stop crying and i will wait to stop writing these letters as i cry and making the paper crinkly and the ink blurry.