The Love Letter

Dearest,

“Do you know how in love with you I am?

Did I trip? Did I stumble? Loose my balance? Graze my knee? Graze my heart?

I know I’m in love when I see you. I know when I long to see you. I’m on fire.

Not a muscle has moved. Leaves hang unruffled by any breeze. The air is still.

I have fallen in love without taking a step.

You are all wrong for me and I know it. But I no longer care for my thoughts unless they’re thoughts of you.

When I’m close to you, I feel your hair brush my cheek when it does not. I look away from you sometimes, then, I look back.

When I tie my shoes, when I peel an orange, when I drive my car, when I lie down each night without you, I remain.”

Yours,

S.O.S

I just don’t know what to write.

I feel bad about myself lately.

Perfect life, jeez, where can you get that? Every single soul on this bloody earth has their own crisis, their own drama, their own fucking issues. But why the hell I feel like I’m alone when I’m with my family? Why do I feel like it’s the heaviest weight I ever have? Why I can’t feel ok when all I try is to feel like one every single day? What the heck is wrong with me?

Sometimes I imagine I’d be sitting on the beach getting high with alcohol, drugs, or just smoke whatever I got and then drive home and since I’d be high I’m gonna hit that tree or crash head on against a truck or any oncoming car or I’d swerve out of control and my car would drop off a cliff or something.

Sometimes I’d rather not go to sleep or wake up.

I’m suicidal.

It’s a term I’d rather not use but it’s how I feel.