clare💛

Have you ever laid in bed at night? And thought about everything? Wanting to scream and cry but, don’t want to wake anyone. Instead you just sit there and the pain just breaks inside of you.

It feels like I’m just waiting by the side of the road. I’m terrified that this is it. That I’ll spend my life watching everyone else cross. There’s such a huge difference between being alive and living.

Some days pass where I can barely breathe. I can’t write, talk to people, even think straight. It feels like I’m losing my mind.

Some days I woke up and got out of bed and brushed my teeth like any normal human being; some days I woke up and lay in bed and looked at the ceiling and wondered what the hell the point was of getting out of bed and brushing my teeth like any normal human being.

It was a funny thing, being friends with her ex. She felt like she could tell him anything, really, but there was always an unspoken boundary to never bring up their past relationship. They talked about old times—like when she toilet papered his house because he dared her to, or when he rear-ended someone because he was looking over at her instead of the road—but they would never talk about how much they loved each other. For them, being friends meant they could never speak of what happened between them. But one day, she let her curiosity get the best of her. She sat down on his couch beside him, and she asked a question that had been eating at her for months. “The scrapbook that I gave you for your birthday,” she said. “What happened to it after…everything?” He looked up from his computer, and froze. She knew, then. “You threw it out.” Instead of acknowledging, he asked her, “What about my Georgetown sweatshirt? You gave back everything else, but you kept that one. What did you do with it?” She wanted to lie. She wanted to say she gave it away or that it was donated to Goodwill, but she wasn’t a liar and she wasn’t going to start today. “I still have it. It was a token, I guess. A physical reminder that we did exist, and we were important. Because sometimes, with the way we act around each other, it’s easy to forget.” It was quiet for a bit, but eventually, they went back to pretending. It was a funny thing, being friends with her ex. Even as friends, he’s the only one who’s ever been able to hurt her so deeply.

After all we’ve been through and the hurt we’ve caused each other I still 100 percent want you. It’s you, it’s always been you. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m no longer sad or mad about not having you around which is good but God damn it I still fucking miss you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I would give anything to have you in my arms. Maybe one day when we’re more mature we can try again. I really think you’re the one. I’ve never thought of marriage and children until you. I hope you’ll come home to me one day.

As time goes on, you’ll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn’t, doesn’t. Time solves most things. And what time can’t solve, you have to solve yourself.