i haven't said enough about him because i don't want to spread the word so hotter girls will steal him, you know?
but this man
is amazing.
he's also terrible for this blog because he is my social life; he borrows from my spare time (and doesn't feel like giving it back).
but that's not the point.
because he is nicer to me, for no reason, than anyone ever. i can be the MOST ANNOYING PERSON and he will just laugh at me and cry with me as is appropriate.
so when i'm hating myself and extracting bits of my brain,
thinking too much and too hard,
he will be loving me and carefully putting all the bits of my brain back into my head, where they belong.
and without explaining anything, those gooey brain bits always seem to fit better after he's fixed me.

***

he grips my hands and looks into my eyes and implores me genuinely to believe it's not true. but i feel so deeply that this relationship would be better without me. i'm trying, my love, to believe it. i really am.

***

i trust god plenty. but i don't trust myself.

i agonise every night over decisions i've made, decisions i will make, decisions that weren't mine to make in the first place. i lie flat on my stomach because my heart's too heavy to sleep on my back. there's wheels turning and the day's conversations re-working themselves and a book sitting under my glasses next to my bed for when all the noise becomes interminable. and there's some sheep jumping stuff thrown in too. and i'm getting a glass of water. and i'm begging my eyes to shut over one of mum's tabloid magazines. there's sitting up and lying down and trying out every inch of my pillow. there's an opened window. a shut window. much-treasured verses of poetry. grand lists of things to do and ideas to fail. there's a clock ticking, fast and slow at the same time. there's me, and there's no one else.

and it's three ay em and suddenly the night stops. dad stops snoring a few doors along and lara's curtains stop rustling. absolutesilence. i am paralysed and i am bursting from my skin. the world has stopped spinning, and i'm the only one left on it, the ruins of a circular ship dead in the sky.

and at some point i drift off into what masquerades as sleep, but my consciousness is never completely muffled.

***

every time you brush my hair from my cheek i know it's worth the risk.