thirty six: Turn your hymnal to Chapter Matthew, Verse: Skiba

Don't cry, or stop to wonder why, we crashed out like thunder, on the floor or down from the ceiling, it's been nice waking up next to you.

thirty five: set stubborn on standing

This is not getting any easier and I feel like it hasn't even begun.

I hate that I'm going through this.

I hate that I'm writing this for the whole world to see.

I am weighed down, with thousands of miles between us.

I feel like there's more to the story, that there's clues to the answers right in front of my face waiting to be found so I can smile again.

It's so easy to tell that I am not right lately, that I'm not "all there", it's written all over my face and getting so much harder to hide.

I feel like this is all my fault, and if I had just said the things that you wanted to hear, none of this would be happening.

If I wasn't so set in in my routine, if I wasn't so scared you wouldn't be so against me leaving this place for a while.

I need you, for as much as that scares you; I need you.

It scares me too.

This is as plain as I can put it.

 

I wear rubber bands on my wrist instead of tying string around my finger so I don't forget.