If Killing Yourself Is Not An Option

Time Heals All Wounds. And If It Doesn't, You Name Them Something Other Than Wounds And Agree To Let Them Stay.

I Still Believe That You Truly Find Yourself Not In Travel, But In Other Human Souls.

Is It Needy? It's Not. We Don't Need Each Other. We Just Really, Really Enjoy Each Other. And We're Good Together. We're Good People Together. And I Have The Funniest Feeling. I Can Really, Truly Touch This All, This Happiness And The Sadness Too, I Can Trace All Of It With My Fingers. It Isn't Theoretical Or Distant. This Feels Like Me. This Is Me. I Love Him, And, For The First Time In A Relationship, I Also Like Me. Every Time He Says "i Love You," I Answer, "i Believe You.

He Was A Super Shiny Boy And I Liked The Shape Of Him. Under The Blanket. In The Shower. I Liked His Shadow On The Street And His Imprint On The Sofa. I Hated The Smell Of Hair Gel On His Head, But I Loved It On The Pillow. I Love The Smell Of Losing Someone.

I Think It's Sort Of The Hypothetical Point Where Communism And Fascism Meet. They Love Tragedy, And They Love Surface Beauty. You Just Watch It Play Out Over And Over In The Media. It Was The English Edition Of Glamour Who Were Looking For Stories Of Iraqi War Widows, But Specified That They Had To Be Attractive.