I want to be the 7 am forehead kisses, the 9 am cuddles, the 10 am breakfasts. I want to be the 12 pm out to lunch and the 1 pm hugs from behind. I want to be the 3 pm naps together and the 4 pm giggles. I want to be the 6 pm dinners and the 7 pm desserts, in which we have a whipped cream fight. I want to be the 9 pm movies on HBO and the 10 pm yawns. I want the 11 pm snuggles and 12 pm heavy breathing. I want to be the 1 am wake ups to whisper “I love you,” and drift off to sleep. I want to be the 3 am, where you wake me up and we make love. I want to be the 4 am talk about anything and everything. And I want to do it all over again, everyday. I want to be your everything, your forever, your one and only.
What hurts the most is when your heart wants someone but they don’t want you.
I don’t need anyone to fix me. I can fix myself. I just choose not too because being broken feels more familiar than being together.
It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.