I can't remember all the words I wanted to say to you. Every time I see your face, all those things I want to say about how we're bad for each other, and how we really shouldn't be doing this, they all just fade away. And then I'm left just standing there, in front of you, and all I can think of is how right it feels.

I haven't seen you in months, but every time things get difficult, I just want to be wrapped in your arms, with you foul breath ticking my neck, and that smell that is uniquely you wrapped around me. The jumper of yours that I stole doesn't smell like you anymore, but it's all I have and it'll have to do. The music you listened to is so right for how I feel, and it feels so good, but I want to share it with you. You're not here. You chose not to be. Then you asked to come back, and I thought I'd be better off without you. I was wrong.

We weren't conventional, we weren't perfect, but you made me feel safe, and made me not need the pills, and made me want to see tomorrow. I want to tell you I'm sorry, but you're on the other side of the country now, so I'm going to the other side of the world.