He said, “see this is why we can’t be together. You’re too emotional.”

“I don’t think I’m too anything.”

You are never too anything. You are more than enough and more perfect than you’ll ever know. It’s him who isn’t quite enough. Trust me.



“Why did you call me?”

“Because I felt like talking to you. Hey can you do me a favor?”

Oh that’s why you called.


“It’s just a gut feeling.”

“How long have you been having this gut feeling?”

“Since we met.”

The shower is the only place I can cry without anyone hearing.

A million of my tears just washed down the drain.

“Gut feeling”.


Your words are sticky, dripping with gooey sugar crystals. They coat my throat, block my airways and choke my wind pipes. 

I never get to eat sugar, it’s bad for my teeth you say. But sometimes you force it to me and it’s artificially saccharine. Like Splenda. I know it’s not good for me but I still like the taste. Only it’s slightly bitter.