A Letter From The lost soul
I'm not really sure how to start this. I've written it about forty times.
Rose, if you're reading this, I know you're going to say I'm being dramatic. Maybe I am. But I've been holding all of this in for a long time and I don't know where else to put it. My friends have stopped answering when I bring you up. My brother told me to "make a website or something." So this is the website.
I want to be clear that I am not angry. I'm hurt. There's a difference, and I've had a lot of time to learn it.
We were together for one year, seven months and eleven days. I still think about all of them. I think about the good ones, and I think about the bad ones, and lately I think about the ones where I'm almost positive she was somewhere else.
I gave her everything I had. Rides, food, concert tickets, my bed, the benefit of the doubt, over and over and over again.
For a long time I thought it was just me but...
I'm starting to learn its so many more.
That's why I made this page. Not to hurt anybody. Just so the next person knows they're not crazy.
Rose, I still have your grey hoodie. I sleep in it sometimes. I'm not proud of that, but I'm not going to lie on my own website. My therapist told me this is healthy.
I'm dating a phlebotomist now; she's blonde, a little husky, and smells like lavender. And she doesn't even mind that I talk about you all day.
I hope you're happy, because I know I am. I really do. I just wish you had been happy with me.
- The lost soul




