That I couldn't protect you from getting hurt was hard enough to deal with. Knowing that I'm a part of everything that's breaking you slowly, has killed my fickle heart one last time.

And if I could be who you wanted, if I was the boy you think I am, I would hold you in my arms, look after you and NEVER let you out of my sight.

I see you and I see you are fragile. Yet like the last leaf that will never fly, you are resilient. I imagine your heart, punctured and brimming with all things beautiful, all things hope. And if you would believe just for a second that you are the most gorgeous woman I know, if you could just love yourself the way I loved you that night in the midst of all that chaos, I would rest easy for that one second and be happy.

I've felt your scars, both inside and out. I have felt them throbbing, a pattern of your heart on your skin, I've felt them cry out. And as the moon drew a path across us, you sat next to me, weary, cold and so far away in your head that you probably never heard a word I said. And what could I have said that could have changed the way you felt?

I love you.