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Mona Vale Beach © Gabscanu

But that’s the thing, isn’t it– we could never let each other go. Even when we were both miserable we burrowed inside one another, trying to make a home but really just poisoning the water supply from the inside out. I held your hand so tightly you had the groove of my fingernails imprinted on your palm, and I didn’t feel bad about it, I just thought, maybe now you’ll remember I was here. And wasn’t I the one who showed up to my mother’s apartment in a cab with a razor blade tucked up away beside my gums in case she loved me just a little too much and I had to remember how much that stung? When you love someone, they become a part of you, I think, their history all tangled up with yours and 21 doesn’t belong to me anymore but to us. Isn’t that the scariest thing you’ve ever heard? The body has memory. You were here.

Something about tearing myself open, something about closing my eyes when I see gore on T.V. (via ad0xography)