godlovessean:

You mean so much to me.

I don’t like who I’ve become in this either, I see what you see and I’m not myself. We need to be patient with each other if you still have some sort of want to connect to me. The smallest thought of you being with someone else just makes me cringe.. I understand why you felt so jealous and if I were you I would’ve been so mad at myself. I wasn’t really thinking about it in your perspective. So I’m sorry. I hope you read this. I love you little boy.

I hope I never fuck you, I never want to fuck you. People only fuck when you don’t know eachother very well after a few nights at some parties, when you feel lust and find them solely attractive, or want to let your anger out and so does someone else. Cruising through the dark, empty streets at three in the morning, listening to John Mayer, and both knowing we wanted eachother more than anything right then and there will mean a whole lot more than anyone I ever fuck in the future. Coming back to stained hotel sheets and your body heat never felt so right. Even if I don’t understand yet what it really feels like to make love, I felt the happiest I had been in a long time. I still want you to be that to me no matter what. But more than a first time feeling thing, I still want you to be thaaat guy. The one I look back at and think all of those petty fights were only from not being able to be surrounded by you, loved by you, and cared by you for any amount of time I wished. I love you as a human being and as someone I respect and still want to try with as much as I can, until I’m dried up.

I love reflecting on our old messages, it reminds me to keep going. I’m in it but only if you are.

But really what can I do anymore.

I’m just here to you. No regard. Don’t argue this to me, you know how you’re being towards me. It’s not like how it was two/three weeks ago. It’s been the longest week of my life it seems, with little snipets of texts here and there, that phone call was nice. But I don’t feel I am who I used to be to you, I feel on the sidelines and being your cheerleader but only when you call out to me. Otherwise I’m just fucking here, waiting on any response from you like a follower. And then you turn it around and have something sweet to say that keeps me here. Make up your mind, you don’t understand how much this is hurting me.

im gonna be okay. 

I’ve never been so lost. What did I do and how do I fix it.

I hate night time and you’re not around.
That’s why I go crazy.

The only words that have gone through my head over and over this week are I want to die. I want to die.