You’d always come around at the worst time. While I’m walking down the street, while I’m watching tv, lying down alone gazing out the window or at the ceiling, hell even in my sleep I remember your touch. The soft as silk skin and hair you had put me in a euphoric daze as I ran my fingers through it, and the beautiful smile that creeped across your lips as we kissed. It was unrealistic of me to think that a wonder such as yourself could love the train wreck that I’ve come to be. As I held you and told you “you’re beautiful” for what was probably the millionth ducking time, I thought of your eyes and how captivating they really are. I thought of the way you laughed and your sarcastic personality that had me smirking at my phone or in person as we exchanged insults or corny pick up lines for fun, or how much I told you I loved you and how I would run, swim, fly, or whatever was necessary to get to you even though I’m an out of shape idiot. How much you meant to me amounted to more than family and how just sitting next to you made me a better person. I’m a bad guy. I texted you to make sure you were ok or just in the morning to tell you have a good day. I had nothing but my heart to give and I couldn’t buy you anything, so I gave you a silver necklace with my own secret meaning. When we split I tried to hard to fix the inevitable ending that was our relationship, and should’ve called it quits. But, like an idiot, I had faith that it would work out. You’ll never probably read this, and in my head if you do I know it’ll mean absolutely nothing at all, but the reason I gave you that plain, silver necklace was that it had a cross on it before I eventually got rid of the pendant as a symbol of my atheism, and even though I’d been hurt and lost trust in people close to me I wouldn’t lose my trust-no, my FAITH-in you no matter what, and oddly enough (even though we never talk anymore and you don’t seem to look in my direction at all) I still do. Maybe that’s because I’m a fool who misses that intense, warm feeling in the middle of his chest that makes me forget about everything. It could be that feeling that makes me think of you and hoping there are no more tears or scars adding to your list even though my scars are adding up anyway. It’s possible that I care about your happiness more than myself, which in all honesty is insane I know, but nonetheless it’s possible that’s the cause of it.. but what do I know about fucking love anyway? Right?