Some days I think I’m fine. Some days I think that things are getting better.. and then I remember and I’m back to square one. Two steps forward, three steps back in the gutter.
I wish I could tell you that you’re the only person to ever give me butterflies or that in between all the fighting I’ve never wanted anything more. That the sound of your breathing made me feel safe at night and that I still hate myself for being the reason you were so sad.
I have moments where I forget what you sound like or what it felt like to be woken up by you hugging me. I forget what you taste like and how you laugh. All of the good is gone because all that became of it was bad. And it kills to know that the bad is how you’ll remember me.
I hate myself.