I held you, you cried and your body shook. With every sharp intake of breath I whispered that it would be okay. You were always so scared that you were never enough to anyone, to your peers, your teachers, your partners, not even your own father. But you were always enough for us, we loved you and we tried our best to take care of you and maybe along the lines somewhere we failed and that's why you left. Still, even after all this time I always think back to the night I was so scared for you, for someone so close to me, so I held you until you fell asleep. In that room, there was storm, there was no wind, no weather like one of your first and best poem. It was just us and in that moment you were enough, we were enough. Being together, supporting each other and that's all we even needed. I have come to the conclusion that we are fictional, we do not exist because we choose to be, we are here because we are apart of someone's life story. You start as someone's child and you grow from there, you're someone's first love, someone's neighbor, someone's roommate, someone's best friend. We are never just here to be yourself. We are fictional books written by someone or something greater than us. I am no where close to my end but already I have been worn down, my spine is bent out of shape and my pages are all bent. You leaving were pages of me being ripped from the middle, there was no sign of fray in our chapters together just a sudden tear away, now I spend each and everyday on a bookshelf sitting next to my old pages recycled into something new, into someone else's story. I want to tell you that I miss you, I want to tell you that I'm missing apart of me since you left, I want to tell you all the things I am never able to say no matter how hard I tried, I want to tell you that while you never thought so I always thought that you were enough. I know that things will never be the same, some of us will never change, but some will grow and I know that you are one of those many books that will be shown from windows to the top selves of the library, I only wish that I could have been there with you, been apart of your story, not because I knew where you were going but because I believed you could get there.
amandla
tangentwithtanner
titsay
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
baratheonpilled