the thing that kills me is, i see it. i see why you like her. anyone! could see why you like her. i hear it ringing in my head, the time when you finally, finally admitted to me quietly, “yeah, i like her.” you breathed out slowly after you said it, like it took you so much courage to say those words. like you don’t think you’re good enough for her. you know, that kills me too. because how you could not be good enough for anyone, i don’t know.
— 50 pieces in 50 days #5 - afternights