Status: Please, be gentle.
Dear Tate
The Darkness
Dear Tate,
I saw you today. I know it wasn't real—I'm glad it wasn't real, and still a part of me wanted you. You vanished beneath my fingertips.
Do you remember the first time you took me to the beach? I remember you gave me your sweater because I was an idiot and decided to wear only my tank top to impress you. The point is, it was the first time I'd ever really felt your warmth. I miss it. I miss you and I hate you for it.
I wish you would get the hell out of my head. You make it difficult, Tate. I can't control myself when I see you there or hear you whispering from nowhere, egging me on. I won't do it again. I refuse to become you—the darkness.
I saw you today. I know it wasn't real—I'm glad it wasn't real, and still a part of me wanted you. You vanished beneath my fingertips.
Do you remember the first time you took me to the beach? I remember you gave me your sweater because I was an idiot and decided to wear only my tank top to impress you. The point is, it was the first time I'd ever really felt your warmth. I miss it. I miss you and I hate you for it.
I wish you would get the hell out of my head. You make it difficult, Tate. I can't control myself when I see you there or hear you whispering from nowhere, egging me on. I won't do it again. I refuse to become you—the darkness.