I found your old sweater about an hour ago; I can’t stop crying.

my eyes burn so bad and I think my throat is bleeding but I can’t stop screaming for you

I made my mom cry

I’m not going to school I can’t stand seeing your friends give me stupid pity looks anymore

I need to get drunk so bad but I won’t because I know of you were still here you would never let me drive home drunk but the roads are icy and I want to see you soon

I miss you so much but my lungs ache and I made myself sick and I can almost feel you rubbing my back and pressing your body to mine because I can’t sleep with out feeling your breathing patterns


I miss you so much

—  come back because I’m breaking with out you
I love to smoke.
Smoking a cigarette is like forgetting.
When I hit rock bottom, it’s all I have.
Light up, smoke up, shut the fuck up.
It hides the shit.
The smoke hides the shit.
Cigarettes clearly keep me from going crazy.
Keep me alive.
It keeps me alive until I die.
—  Xavier Dolan, Les amours imaginaires