I ruined my favorite song.

It's getting hard to shower again. And you're making plans for us, but there never really has been an us. But I think, now, there could be, but it's getting hard to shower again. I remember when it was easy, to wake up to running water and your skin pressed against mine, and there was nothing more I'd rather do than get in the shower. I used to be able to recall the scents of your shampoo and soap. And I could still set the water at exactly the right temperature, if only I could step into the tub. It's getting really hard to shower again, and it's getting even harder to talk to you. And I hate the way my own sheets feel. And you keep making these plans, but it's getting hard to just shower again.

"I like you because you don't try and fix me." Oh, but if you'd let me, I'd fix every part of you and cut myself up on the pieces

When we met in Alabama, I told you how jealous I was that you lived there, that I wanted to live there too. You told me you weren’t, you were visiting from Mississippi, and what a coincidence that we were both from the same town. Now, seven months later, we’re both crying in your bed, and you tell me that you're sorry you weren't from Alabama.

"If you would've asked I would've told, I held it all like fire waiting for you to want the warmth"

“The one you kissed once before he went away to college. The one who bussed tables at your favorite restaurant for a month. The one with freckles in your math class who you never spoke to. The ones who smile at you in passing. All the little heart breaks you experience.”

“Now that we talk less, I can’t help but wonder who you’re talking to more.”

“I take pieces of every person, even the ones I don’t really love. The boy I made out with a few Friday nights? I listen to his favorite song. The boy who’s name I kept forgetting? I drive past his favorite place from time to time. I fall for everyone, even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Because you get so used to that person. The way they sound, look, feel. And you never think about the day they won’t be there anymore. But the day comes. So don’t make a person your home.”

“It has now become a part of my daily routine, missing you. I wake up with the familiar ache in my chest. I shower and try and rinse away the dreams of your hands touching me. I catch myself thinking of your smile in class. I lay in the dark and convince myself that I will be just fine, that I don’t need you. I wake up, and repeat.”

Get in the shower. Stand completely still, let the hot water run over you. Close your eyes. Feel your toes. Your ankles. Shins, knees, thighs, waist, stomach, chest, arms, hands, neck, face. Be in tune with every part of your body. You are here. You are a living, breathing part of the earth. You're doing just fine.

You taught me that love is not “If they are happy, I am happy”. Love is “I want them to be happy with me”. Love is selfish.

And it is so hard to be apart from you. Because we are hot showers and cold nights. Long drives and short walks. Intimate touches and casual smiles. We are everything good.

Tonight I can’t be distracted. Tonight I keep your number dialed on my phone and rock myself back and forth. Tonight I am consumed.

And then one night I stopped crying. I put out my cigarette. I screwed the cap back on the sour liquor. I showered, cleaned my room, and wrote about you. I began to heal.

And all of the sudden I’m rinsing the smell of cigarettes out of my hair and quietly sneaking into my bedroom window and hiding half empty bottles under my bed again because I’m trying to forget you.