It hurts me so much to think that I can’t be there for you. The news hit me really hard because when I received it, that’s when I really realized how much I care about you and how strong my feelings were. All this time I’ve been trying to bury my feelings and stop myself from getting hurt, because I knew you were bad news and I knew you didn’t feel about me the same way and I didn’t want to look like a fool. So I constantly turned away from what my heart was telling me. But when I heard about your condition, I had to confront myself. I know I can’t pretend anymore. I’m so worried about you and I care so much. I just want to run over there and make sure you’re ok. It’s no use lying anymore. I think I like you.

It hurts so much, also, to think that she was the one who knew about what happened and she was the one who told us and she was the one who’s been texting you this whole time to make sure you’re ok. I’m so far away from your life now, so insignificant and irrelevant that I had no idea, was completely oblivious when all of this was happening to you. And who am I anyway? I don’t even feel like I deserve to ask you how you’re doing. I don’t feel like I have the right to care about you, because I’m nobody. Texting you was more a move for me, to satisfy my guilty conscience, than for you. I’m sure you’re content with her texts, her messages and her care. You don’t need me. Do you find me annoying? I’m so scared that you do. I’m so scared that you were wondering wtf I would text you.

I feel like such a dumb fuck. For constantly playing mind games in my head and asking myself petty questions and daydreaming like a retard. Your condition is real life. It pulled me back to reality. Life isn’t a bubble of hookups and partying and fantasizing and drama. Life is things like this. Sometimes your body doesn’t work anymore the way it’s supposed to, no matter how good you’ve been taking care of it. I know you’re hurting now because it’s so important to you that your body is in good condition and that you look good and that you keep up that masculine image that I admit, makes you so fucking attractive. But I want to say it’s ok to be vulnerable sometimes. And that doesn’t make you less manly. It makes me want to care about you more. Because this makes you real.

I know I’ve been such a retard. Smoking in front of you and saying dumb shit like “I want to live my life before I die.” You probably had a lung condition all this time and thought I was the dumbest fuck ever for fucking up a healthy organ you wish you had. I’m even embarrassed to think about the way I behaved and to think, I smoked like a chimney in front of you with no shame when all that time I was probably endangering your health. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ll understand if you find me a dumb shit and don’t want to talk to me. I forgive you for everything and the way you treated me and basically every fucking thing because now I just want you to be ok and I’m worried and I like you.

I just can’t stand thinking about you and her and how she was there for you and I wasn’t when I could have been that girl. Because honestly she doesn’t care about you enough if she could be in Beijing partying and sleeping with other guys when you were going through this. She doesn’t deserve you because she’s selfish and I would never do that. I would have been there for you. But you’re not open to me. You’re so fucking closed to me and I don’t know why. Why are you open to her?

I’m feeling this crazy mix of guilt and jealousy and affection and it’s fucking ridiculous. A part of me resents you so hard for not trusting me and not being open to me and choosing her instead when I KNOW I care about you more. A part of me feels so dumb and fucking stupid for all the things I did and said when I was with you. A part of me is worried sick and just wants you to get better and wants to rush over there and take care of you. A part of me is sad. Because I barely know you. Am I even your friend? Do I even count as a friend or am I an acquaintance? Do I matter at all and I am an even bigger fool now for caring?

I can’t think about anything else and I don’t want to party or drink or get high or even smoke a cigarette because the truth is the only reason I did those things was because I wanted to go out and bump into you. I wanted to be ready and in a state where I could relax and possibly talk to you and possibly touch you again because I’m obsessed. I can’t get you out of my head even though I barely know you and it’s been like this for weeks and I’ve been trying to suppress it and find other guys and all that shit but it hasn’t been working. I don’t know how you have this power over me but you do. And it’s fucking ridiculous.

I want you to get better and come back and I want to make it up to you and to myself by not lying anymore. If you like her I want to accept that and give you my well wishes. I don’t want to stand in your way of anything or to annoy you but I want you to know that I do care about you and if not anything else I want to be your friend. I just want to see you healthy and partying again like you used to, and you can be a playboy and you can take home as many girls as you want as long as you’re ok and good and healthy. I don’t want to play any more games. I’m going to go talk to you and ask you if you’re ok because I care. I’m not playing fucking hard to get or anything anymore. I’m swallowing my pride. I care about you and I don’t care if you know. Because now I know you’re hurting and I want you to know that I care. And that I’m thinking about you—fuck other people, fuck whatever I said in my text. I care. And I want you to get better. And I miss you.



i cut my finger on a piece of paper,
but i can barely trace the outline of the wound.
it wasn't deep but it hurt like no other
the persistent ache reminded me of you.

you never said you'd treat me like a lover
and to tell the truth i wouldn't want you to
but when i see you dancing with those others
it sucks because i don't think they're that cute.

yeah you're hot but boy you could be smarter
and you're vain, ignorant, pretty fucking lame
but you were always there to keep me warmer
as you reassured me that you knew my name.

this cut hurts when i type these letters
hurts when i run my hands through my hair
like you did once when we didn't act like strangers
it hurts more than how much you don't care.