your hands. my face.
fuck you for having to decide about me. fuck you for not appreciating me. fuck you for all the times a piece of music distracted you from me. fuck you for the times you didn't call. fuck you for thinking i was somehow going to be a waste of your 20s. fuck you for all these things and more.

what i take...
- the way you fiddled with your hair
- your pout and whimper
- the way you always needed your back scratched and your hair pulled
- how warm and soft you always were
- the way you begged for me to not leave the bed in the mornings
- certain compliments... "you should just never wear clothes. you look so much better naked."
- the way we fucked like teenagers in the back of my van
- over winter break... i don't think i ever felt so sexually frustrated. our phone calls were torture.
- the sufjan concert. it was one of our first dates... on our way to a party after the show... when we bought a bottle of wine and drank it together in that alley. we talked about how our signs weren't compatible... ironic how you turned out to be the emotionally unavailable one even though i'm the aquarius.

looking back at all the past tense is making me cry. i'm going to miss all the things we never got to do. but this is the healthiest decision for me.

and so i begin the slow process of moving on...