Jesus lord.

I just start thinking of really stupid simple things and the way I felt in those moments. Like trying on his shoes, his clothes, or kissing his cold face in the winter, or watching him walk up to me after work in his uniform, or caressing his legs and messing with his hair and feeling the scar on his arm and touching his nose, or how my hands were never sweaty when I held his hand, or our many talks by the railroad tracks, or laying on puzzles when we were high and thinking that POOPYCAT was the funniest phrase ever, how I knew every part of his body like it was my own and how sometimes I can still feel him. My heart is in shreds. I miss last winter so much, I miss him so much. I've been writing the most I've ever written and I've written the most passionate stuff I have ever written so how come I can't convince him to come back to me like in a folk song. I don't know how I can be more intricate about expressing my feelings and my unrequited love for this person even after all the bull shit and my desire for them in the big scheme of things, I know it's not cool to be desperate but my head and my heart are tearing me apart and FUCK I was so in love and FUCK I LOVED HIM SO MUCH GOD DAMMIT I WISH I COULD SHUT THE FUCK UP AND MOVE ON BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER WORK FUCKKKKK.