"It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has. I've missed you."

"Yeah... how's it been?"

I would tell him that I've spent a total of 32 nights crying since.

I would tell him that I've never felt as broken or as whole since I left him.

I would tell him that my body hasn't felt like my body ever since he touched me but I wish he would touch me again.

I would tell him all these things,

but I swallow the little bit of pride I have and swallow every piece of hurt I have,

And I tell him,

"Pretty good, you?"

Is not a sentence I agree with. I believe we bleed in colors on pain, anger, sadness, and in some forms, giggles and blushes. We bleed because we have stumbled but the difference is the way you deal with the fall. Do you instantly pick the rocks out of your skin or do you cry for help as the asphalt laughs from under your bleeding knees. Do the bruises mean nothing because they only tell you that they exist by the color shift on your skin. We all bleed the same color, but we do not bleed in the same instance.

God knows I love attention, and that I was destined to live as a writer and die as one too. I'm not trying to be helplessly poetic with this. I'm dying. That's about all there is to it. No boy will cry over this letter and no teacher will stop class for me. It is what it is. So, it's about time for me to go, and while I'm gone, don't read my journal. I'll let you know whatever happens next, but for now, I shall finally get the sleep school has taken from me.

See you later,

Whoever I was.

My crush texted me today.

It sounds silly but my heart was pounding and I couldn't help but smile.

He said "long time no talk!"

And I spent what felt like an eternity trying to find the right words to say.

He told me he broke up with his girlfriend, and so selfishly I prayed he would type how much he loves me.

Read: 9:49 p.m.

She was donned in the darkest color of lust that men would lay their hearts upon. She controlled a room with eyes of the same and I swear that I fell in love with her. Maybe it was the way the world saw a color so dark and turned into something so beautiful. The color of her mind meant nothing and everything at all. It was so dark and contemplative that my drink no longer held any substance of alcohol because the darkness of her being swallowed me into a pit of darkness that I can never come out of.

You love the way my tears glisten

when they slide off my cheeks.

And no, your hit was not a kiss,

it hurt like hell,

and I still feel the sting of your bitter mind.

You loved me,

you left me,

and I was never the same.