You're not supposed to hurt. I mean obviously you will because you're human and not impervious but fuck you're supposed to be okay. I'm supposed to be the fucked up (er) one and yet I'm still on the fence (procrastinating) about getting help and you broke down. And we're fucking seventeen hundred kilometres apart. And that was killing me long before I needed to be there for you. Fuck.
I love you.
This is one of those moments where I wish I believed in a god who gave a shit. (Please god.) Be okay?
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