Blu-tacked up there because I don't have the heart to take you down.
Silence is one of the most terrible reminders of solitude, and pictures let me remember that it felt like to feel like I could do anything, say anything, and open myself up completely, and not worry about getting hurt.
You were the only one that made me feel that.
It's hard, finding people to help fill the gap you left in my days.
That's what happens when you are consumed by someone.
In my head I heard, 'Where is he? Is he here? Please let him be here, let him see me.'
Then you were there and I could calm down, focus on getting the ball off the other team.
You still exist in my mind.
And you shouldn't.
And you need to get out.
Because the memory of the warmth of your skin has become torture.
And torture me you do.