It hurts to not miss you.

I rummage through my drawers, and stumble across a postcard your parents mailed me for my birthday. They signed it "xoxoxo". I miss them more than I miss you, and I want to cry because I have lost them.

My skin feels like summer, Eli

He sat wearing a hoodie as dark and black as his hair in the somewhat chilly gray morning, looking on at me. We conversed, briefly, blue eyes to blue eyes on the level ground. He leaned in to kiss me, a lingering touch of the lips, and then he pulled away, wrapping his arm around mine.

We stood on a platform at a train station, embracing one another. I rested my head on his shoulder, but when I looked up I was growing taller. And taller. Soon I was towering above him. He looked on as if nothing was different. I thought to myself that he will eventually grow, too, and that I must only persevere for now, until he grew with me.

And then HE was here, scribbling on paper. The one I dislike so much. I sat down somewhat across from him, not touching but not face to face. We used the paper to communicate, which frustrated me and clouded my mind. It was hard to concentrate and to read. He told me of his adventures with other girls he picked up, using certain perks of his privileged life as endearing bait. He went into lewd details I didn't wish to hear. I wanted to be happy for him, but his arrogance annoyed me and I found it a difficult task to want to feel happy for someone so elitist.

I wished to tell him about Eli and my relationship with him, but he wouldn't let me have a word. Even though he only wrote his laughter on paper and his face never moved, I could hear him laughing at me and laughing at me and laughing at me. I wanted him to see what kind of man he wasn't, even though Eli was still so young.

All good things must come to a end. But I didn't deserve that from him.

A gentle caress to urge the flesh.

Depression weighs on the neck like a heavy pendant, which grows and grows until your face is perpendicular to the ground. And even though you're uncomfortable and hurting, you pretend it is not there.

A friend of mine is going through this. I have been there but it was normal "teenage" stuff. I hope he seeks the help he needs to be happier.

The Effluence of Charisma

You were leaving and we weren't meant to be there. I was lucky to have even made it. We saw the beginnings of the sunset before our eyes were diverted to one another. You leaned down to hug me and, just as it surprised me the first time, it took me by surprise a second time; the sudden burst of bubbly words you hear so often and always take for granted.

"I love you."

Without a second thought, my chin wedged into the crook of your neck and slurring my words so I felt like they didn't seem as firm as yours, I uttered its lover's counterpart, "I love you, too."

Then we parted, and I didn't get to see you anymore. Left with that awkward feeling. Upset that you uttered the words before me, and feeling like I didn't get to affirm my feelings for you first. Did I just fail, again?