JUNE 30, 2016

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JUNE 30, 2016

You know the worst part is? You didn’t even care enough to tell me, Alex. It’s me. Mia. The one who watches you poop while she reads you your literature book? The one who checks your phone for any spam mail? The one who takes a bite out of your pancakes everyday and you still keep them on your plate unattended each single time. 

A damn sticky note. That’s how much you care about me. A FUCKING YELLOW STICKY NOTE. 

I don’t know why I’m still upset. I don’t know why I haven’t accepted the fact that you’re gone. I feel like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest multiple times, then thrown into the ocean just to be eaten by sharks than thrown up and washed into the shore where kids pee on it. 

I’m not even exaggerating. 

I don’t know what this is. Is it a love letter? Is it just a letter? Is it just because it makes me feel like you’re still here? Is it because I still love you so god damn much and I haven’t got you here to say it to your face?

It’s almost three months now, and I still want you to come back. I still want to sleep beside you every night and wake up to your face every morning. I still want to fight over simple things just so you could hug me for hours on end after. I still want to feel your lips against mine and I still want to bite them just to hear you laugh into my mouth. I still want to taste your laugh and I want to taste how it feels like to have you here again.

Today, three more people asked me about you. Somehow, everyone expects me out of everyone to know where you’ve disappeared to. They ask me about your area bouts and how you’ve been. Little do they know, at this point I’d kill for that little information.

Does love really hurt this much? Am I going to live the rest of my life like this? Loving you and not knowing if you love me more, too, or if you just do. 

Please stop doing this to me.

I’m going through hell.

I still love you.

Mia.

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