Anthony is perfect.

This boy. He stays awake to talk me back from the edge of insanity.

He picks me up for work because I don’t have my car this week. He comes over early to rescue me from my crazy house.

He takes me back to his house and gives me jello shots (omg yum)

He takes me out to bingo and buys me ice cream and holds my hand.

He lets me plug in my iPod and play my music, and smiles and watches me as I sing.

He’s always stealing a glance when he thinks I’m not looking. 

He let’s me do his hair before work, and he has to sit on the edge of his tub just so I can reach.

He tells me I’m beautiful, and shakes his head every time I say I’m not.

I don’t want to leave for school yet. He understands me. He’s the kind of person I’ve needed for a while, and he needs someone like me in so many ways.

He’s taking me to the mall tomorrow, and to the beach on Saturday.

He’s perfect.

I can’t even deal.

My dear,

The problem with our reality, dear, is that we both know it but refuse to acknowledge it.

we choose to ignore what we can’t handle, because we would rather immerse ourselves in our unsung feelings.

But the fact of the matter is, dear, that I’m leaving soon; but a choice remains. We can either let the distance cripple our blossoming relationship, or we can make a valiant effort; not because we only want to, but because deep down inside, we both know that we need to.

I watch you, dear. When you’re quiet and when you’re thinking. I watch you speak and act and react. I watch the little wrinkles around your eyes when you smile and mean it, and even when you smile and don’t mean it.

I’ve seen the sadness of your heart, and you’ve seen mine. We both cope with the struggle and pressure of dealing with a sick and dying parent. We find peace despite hating ourselves the way that we do.

We like each other so much, but detest ourselves. That, my dear, is why I can’t stop smiling when I see you… because I like so many little and large things about you, your heart, your soul, and your entire entity; and when I think about you, when I am with you, I dislike myself less and less.

You make me feel invincible, and I want nothing more than bring you to those same feelings.

I care about you, deeply, and I know you care quiet deeply for me. While I may be leaving soon, know that that is only physically. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, I am still with you. I’m not often so elaborate and eloquent with my thoughts, but I needed to connect the dots. For you, and for myself. 

I promise to fill you in, dear, as much as I can. I can’t just walk away from you. You’re a friend of the heart, not a friend of the road. Time ticks by slowly when I am with you, but it flies by all at once. I will never grasp or understand how that is. I don’t want to. I appreciate it as much as I can.

So, my dear, though you will never read this, know that I mean every word of it. Somehow, someway, feel it in the depths of your soul.

I hope that after I leave, you’ll see me in the little things. You’ll hear my laughter and you’ll feel me in your heart; because the truth is that I have moved in, and I have no intentions of leaving.

(l.e.c.)

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