Hello My Loves.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

I choose you over everyone.

You get over him like this: at first, you don’t. his name is a note you can’t unsing but eventually your body gets bored of making tears over the same person who broke you. your body says “listen up it was a long time ago” and for a second you feel whole but you catch sight of him in a starbucks and your heart drops and your hands shake and you want to throw up and you can’t explain to your friends why this messed you up because you’ve already talked their ears off so you go home and have a good old-fashioned sob but somewhere in that night or the next one or two weeks down the road the things that came to the surface start getting old and you start turning over your relationship in your palms until you discover the ugly things you’ve been hiding from yourself and you think maybe it’s wasn’t always heaven maybe it was hell and you write about him or cry about him or get him out of yourself however you can, you scrape yourself clean until there’s nothing left and rebuild from the ground up and some wicked part of you still wants to talk to him just to say “look, i’m new now, i’m different,” but you don’t because you’ve straightened out the voices in your head and you write about him and make a stupid poetry blog about red blood and black ink and you make playlists of songs you found way after him and you make yourself okay again eventually because the truth is, you were whole before you found him you have just forgotten how to be who you are without him - don’t worry, my love all it takes is a little soul-searching before you rediscover you are better off without him.

You’ll meet her, she’s very pretty, even though sometimes she’s sad for many days at a time. You’ll see, when she smiles, you’ll love her.

And all she loved, she loved with a little sadness in her heart.

Being secretly in love with you is like being a part of the solar system, because you’re the sun and technically I could literally be any planet since they all revolve around you anyway, but for now I’ll just say I’m probably like Pluto or something, because you always seem so far away and on those odd days when you seem closer, I start to get into my own space and it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. I just never could grip why it seems like I’m always spinning in circles around you, shifting and tilting and rotating all out of orbit trying to connect the stars and either seal our fate or find the fault…but now I think it’s adding up. Maybe I’m Pluto and you’re really three planets down from the sun, because you’re so down to Earth, and we’re from two separate worlds. Or, maybe I’m more like the moon— and you’re the sun— and our fate was sealed in our make, forever yearning, separate but one.