“1.
First of all, f.uck
you, I am worth more than the £3.65 you spent on me in
McDonald's, and the grimace on your face. I am worth more
than the hand you brushed over my hips and the
are you sure you want to be eating junk food, babe?
I have stopped twisting my body into apologies for you, I
have stopped interchanging water for food so you might find
me sexy or pretty enough to f.uck.
Listen, I've forgotten what your voice sounds like. It
turns out, I don't miss it very much at all.
2. I have always had a voice that is too loud to be a secret,
and the first time you treated me like one, I went home and
threw up and hated you for the rest of the night. We
didn't talk about it after but you looked at other women
whilst you were with me and I wanted to take you by the
shoulders and ask why everything I'd given you wasn't
enough. It turned out that it was, and you were just too
stupid or too blind to see it. I don't cover up lovebites
anymore, I don't pretend to not belong. I am here, I am
here, I am here. Where are you?
3. I met you outside a convenience store at 2 AM. You were
pulling smoke from a joint and drinking beer, black leather
and hair gel. When I walked past you leaned your hip against
the cash machine and said
hey baby, do you wanna come home with me?
I did and I don't know why. I think I was lonely, I think
I was looking for warmth anywhere I could find it and you
were the first place I'd been in that felt alive. We
stayed in your apartment for two days and only came out for
food and water. The entire place smelled like s.ex
and food. You didn't call me after. Somehow, I can't
remember your name but I can't look at the brand of beer
you like anymore. It only reminds me of how dark it feels to
have someone f.uck
your body and not your mind.
4. There's a few streets I can't walk by anymore
because my body is splayed across every inch of them. The
roads here are wearing my teeth and my clothes and the way we
loved each other. When I look hard enough, I think that even
the cement is oozing the bite of us. I avoid the cracks, I
try not to look at any windows. Your face is everywhere.
Somewhere, in this city, there's a quiet abandoned
apartment that has been mourning quietly ever since we left
it. Somewhere, in that apartment, is a letter I wrote you. It
says,
I will think of you when the sky looks like it's trying
to touch the ocean.
5. On the first Saturday of every month I feel the ghost of
your hands on my hips and drop whatever I am holding because
the skin there is burning. Suddenly, I am all eyes and
collapsed arms. Suddenly I am looking for something to hold.
I have sacrificed mugs, bone china and all our porcelain for
you. I am eating off of paper plates now. I have to drink
beer out of cups. I am smoking more than I usually do because
I know that you hate it. I'm hoping that somehow
you'll feel that my lungs are still missing you and are
trying to punish me for that. I think you were my worst
addiction of all. They don't do anonymous meetings for
lonely youths. If they did there'd be too much heart in
one room, if they did, everyone would drown from the loss of
it all.”
— Letters for the Boys Who Broke My
Heart
