My heart knows what is real. I love you Socksy, and I'm happy because I know you do too.






Dear b, I can't keep believing in what (only I think) is true. Or, used to think was true. I think I'm done with trying to keep up with you. Because I can't. If you want me to know things, you would tell me. If you wanted me in your life, you put me there. No questions asked. But pffft. Why would you give two flying fucks? I'm nothing. As in.. Nothing to you.