"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I’ll use you as a focal point….

I can’t breathe right now. It hit me tonight. That you aren’t coming back to me. I should have known when you you stopped texting me, when the hugs stopped, when you stopped smiling when I walked through the door at work.

I look like a crazy person, saying I’m in tears. I hardly knew you. But I was trying to learn everything I could about you. I’ve never taken the time to sit and simply ask random questions to anyone. But with you, I did. I wanted to know it all. Still do.

Last night, as you usually do, you had me listen to another song, once again this one full of love and affection. Neither of which I am giving or receiving from you. This time, I asked why you listen to these songs when you yourself struggle to be as affectionate. You said you listen to them because you want to be that affectionate, you want someone to express that to. Which makes sense.

I just wish that someone was me. I wish I could return that affection. Instead, I’m laying on my bed, in tears, listening to every single song you’ve had me listen to. On repeat. Instead, I’m typing this. Something you will never see even though I told you about this page. Instead, I’m looking at the notes on the wall from you. Instead, I’m replaying the conversations we had in my head. Instead, I’m trying to ignore the pain in my chest that’s radiating throughout my body when I think of you.

Remember the night our hearts were like sledgehammers in our chests and we were afraid the other would feel it when we hugged? I do.