2:56 :: h.s

vingt cinq

17:18

I haven't seen Rae for two weeks.
After she broke down, we stood there in silence and she excused herself.
I didn't know what to say.
I wanted to tell her that I couldn't care less about having a physical relationship with her, I just needed her mind, and her laugh, and her feelings, and her presence.
When she started walking away, I almost turned around and told her that I loved her.
I shouldn't have walked in the other direction.

I didn't even deny my feelings for her.
As soon as they came, I accepted them.
I laid in my bed for hours on end after I got home that day.
I stared at my ceiling and wondered how in the world I had fallen in love with this girl.

She's dead, Harry, she can't love. I kept telling myself.

But that's the thing.
She can love and that's what makes all of this worse.
Whenever I think about telling her that I love her, I get this feeling of panic that she won't say it back.

This is so messed up.

She's dead.
She's dead.
She's dead.

That's the thought that goes through my head at least one hundred times a day.
I've fallen in love with a dead girl.

Smart move, Styles.

I pound my fists against the wall.

I have to see her.
I need to see her.

I don't want to go to the swing because that's her private place and she wouldn't have a choice to keep me out like I would here.
This is the longest we've gone without talking and it's driving me to a point of insanity.
I need to clear my head.

I'm going to drive around, and listen to music, and hopefully that will do something.

What if she comes by?

I'll leave her a note and stick it on my window.
I dig through my backpack and find my notebook.
I open to a clean page and click my pen open.

Rae,
What happened? What the fuck happened? We kissed. People kiss all the time. I'm not going to tell you it didn't mean something to me because it did. God, it meant more to me than you could ever know. This is messed up. You know this, I know this, but it's such a beautifully, chaotic mess that I'm willing to work through. I need to see you Rae, I have to. I miss your eyes and the way they sparkle in the sun. I miss seeing you in my clothes when it rains - it's rained a lot in these past couple weeks. I miss your laugh whenever I tell a stupid joke. I miss seeing your hair sprawled across the couch or a pillow. I miss the way you would trace over my few tattoos, leaving goosebumps in your wake. I miss the feeling of you. Two weeks ago you told me how you wanted to feel me. I know you can't do that but remember that I can feel you. I know when you're around by the way the room drops ten degrees, or when the hair on the back of my neck rises, or when I get this overwhelming sensation of ease and comfort. Despite how cold you are and how it's harmful to me, it makes me feel safe. You make me feel safe, Rae. The night before we kissed, I had slept with my ex-girlfriend and the entire time I pictured you. I wondered what it would have been like if she was you. But I knew it wasn't you. No matter how hard I tried to picture you with me, I couldn't. She was sweating and her cheeks turned red. You and I both know that wouldn't be the case with you. I've missed you so much. Talking for half an hour in a span of three weeks doesn't cure my addiction - you're worse than any drug I've ever encountered. I pray to God that when you were living, someone told you how much you were worth. Because you deserved it, you still do. You were too good to be in this world and you're too lovely to be stuck here. I don't deserve someone like you but I'm too selfish to let life and death come between us. I need you, Rae. I need you to come home. Please, please, don't let this go. Don't let me go.
H