When I first met you, I was broken. I was damaged, and angry and confused. I refused to show myself to the people who cared about me. It wasn't until that night in the dewy grass, my head in your lap, that I allowed myself to reveal the vulnerable, ugly parts of myself. And you still thought that I was beautiful. We joked about it, our eyes locked on the stars; two quiet beings in the great void.
While I knew you, I was better. I was learning to walk again, and you were always there to hold me up. Together we forged our way towards something greater than friendship.
When I started to lose you, we were back in the dewy grass, our bare legs against its sharp blades. Your arm was around his shoulders, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. I couldn't stop myself from staring. But we were the same, two statues carved from the same stone. Only, I kept it hidden away, and he spoke his mind. And on that fatal, final night, you decided he wasn't what you wanted, and you were mine again. I was the only one that night, and I realized that you were the only one ever. It was more than friendship, it was a bond, undescribable love, it was the nostalgic feeling of those pink purple walls. And then it was goodnight, and goodbye until the morning.
On the day I had to leave you, was the hardest day of my life. I didn't realize that leaving that place meant leaving you, and the beautiful thing we had created. I didn't realize how much I needed you until you were gone, and I was left crying in the backseat of my fathers car as we drove away from the one place where I felt like I was at home.
Now that you're gone, I don't know how to move on. With you I was complete, and now there's a space where you should be. Without you, I'm stuck writing shitty poetry and crying in my bed. this is bad, but this is the end so don't worry.
