Honestly, I just want to be on his roof again, sitting in summer clothes on his patio chair, completely alone, chain smoking while Timshel, The Scientist, and the lifehouse version of Everything play on repeat.
I was crying and upset and I didn’t know who I wanted to talk to. But I thought if I did call you, everything would be ruined. Everything I was feeling would be undermined and always relate back to you, my being sad. But that shouldn’t have anything to do with you, you have your own reasons to be sad, and I thought that if I were to drag you into this, even just to listen to my heaving sobs as I walked home alone, you’d become a part of me. And I couldn’t have that, because what happens when I need to get rid of you? What happens if you leave me? Or if I left you? You’d be associated with this vulnerability, and then I’d refuse to ever be vulnerable again, and that stubbornness would make me naive. Not innocent, the opposite to be truthful, but very, very naive.
In the end, I knew you wouldn’t be able to help me, because no one really can and your helplessness when I needed you the most would disappoint me even more than I originally was.
i want a puppy so bad
omg just look at them rolling around being cute and wriggly and
i think i’ll get one and hide it in my room and pretend its a rug when my mum walks in.