Love is an evil, evil thing. When you fall in love, you literally fall. You crash to the ground and every last bone in your body breaks. But you don’t notice because you have this beautiful boy whispering sweet nothings in your ear and giving you butterflies when he kisses your forehead, so nothing else matters. Then he leaves. He leaves, and you feel it. You feel every broken bone as if they’re breaking all over again. Your chest caves in and you find yourself crying hysterically in your car at 4am, desperately gasping for air that doesn’t taste like him, and trying to hold your broken bones together. But his old t-shirts don’t work as a cast; wrapping them around yourself won’t fix the craters in your ribs. Nothing will stop the aching; nothing will fix the hole in your heart that love has dug.
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