pass me a towel bro
it hurts
My room mate is sitting here in my bed with black mascara streaks running down her face.
I wish there was some way I could make her realize that she’s enough. That she deserves a guy that will fight for her, and not a guy that just rolls over when she’s vulnerable and crying and telling him she’s not okay.
And we’re sitting here crying together because we feel each others pain. We’re two girls who have run out of hope. Not just hope that good men exist, but hope that the world is a good place.
In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
