my ribcage feels slightly bruised. i wonder if it's from the constant pumping of my erratic heartbeat whenever i see you. or if the bra i'm wearing is too tight. the world may never know.

- converselaces

A few years ago, when I was a lowly first year at university, I saw a group of three friends; two boys and a girl. What struck me was the way one of the boys looked at the girl, admiring her like she was some rare art form. It seemed as though even when she was next to him, they could not have been so far apart, for she did not notice the way he looked. 

I saw them again a few days ago, her holding hands with another boy, and that same aforementioned friend walking beside them, still looking at her in the same way. After all this time, she must still mean everything to him, and he must be okay with admiring from afar. 


Today in study hall you looked down at my shoes.

"Your shoes are untied."

"Yeah, sorry but I can't tie them any tighter, they're a little too big." You smiled at me, and since we were sitting next to each other, you bent down to untie my shoe all the way and tie it firm and tight this time. When you were finished you looked up and smiled at me. 


"No problem, I don't want you falling for anyone else."




Everyone has their own idea of what's attractive.

And while you're over there counting up your flaws, someone on this planet probably dreams about your eyes and your lips and your hair and the way you dress, the way you walk, the way you talk. All of it. And they probably think you are absolutely perfect. Like, they have probably, maybe a time or two, or more, pulled up your picture online and just stared at it in awe because they think you are one of the most beautiful creatures they've ever laid eyes on. And just because you may not see it that way, don't think for one second someone else doesn't.

Someone notices you, sees you, pays attention to every little detail about you, and thinks that you're breathtaking. 

There's this girl.

We know each other so well.

She's frightfully smart and can always pick up on my ideas. I can stutter something non-comprehensible and make arm guestures and look around at the clouds and she'll laugh and know exactly what I'm saying, then proceed to share her own saucy opinions on the matter.

She's amazing at listening, too. Normally I'm quiet, but it's like she sucks the words out of me. Those questioning eyebrows never mock me, and those greenish-brown eyes show nothing but kindness. 

But it works backwards too. 

On a rough day we'll meet and she won't say much. She'll sit on a bench, her eyes vacant and sorrowfull, staring into nothingness. Lost in the past. Lost in the swirling depths of her mind. And I can tell she's not thinking about lunch or an upcoming test or a really sad movie.

I just sit beside her, understanding. Understanding her story, the many bits and pieces of it other people have given me. Understanding why she's never had the courage to talk about it. Understanding that I'll never fully understand.

Sometimes she's completely silent. Sometimes she makes small talk about the weather. But the grateful look she gives me when I come sit down with her is heartwrenching. 

I admit, I don't know her very well. We only became good friends a year ago. But I connect with her. And that's why I love her so much.


  • the stars wont sleep tonight.
  • they are too busy thinking of the moon,
  • in all its pale-lit glory.
  • the stars wont sleep tonight.
  • they cant stop thinking:
  • "what good is a speck of white, dotting the galaxy like a wash of freckles over the night?"
  • now the moon, you see- the moon spills light onto the world
  • so that it thrums life endlessly
  • so that in dark, there is a path
  • the stars wont sleep tonight.
  • they are tired but they cannot sleep.
  • even if theyd like to escape now,
  • they cant because they are part of a constellation.
  • a constellation that will fall apart.
  • and the stars;
  • they are just looking for the moon.
  • but they cant find it.
you are the moon
i am the stars
and i am so insignificant in this spinning universe
but i wrote this for you.
it is shitty and insignificant,
like me,
but it is for you.
  • for you, i wont sleep.
-requiem of a stupid heart


I just want to start a round of applause for all the people who tell their crush their feelings. Especially if they didn't return those feelings or it didn't work out in the long run. It is such an incredibly terrifying and brave thing to do. So I just want to congratulate you all because I know from experience how hard it is.

"If you love someone, let them know. Hearts are often broken by words left unspoken"

~Hopeless Romantic

Hey considering how awkward you are, I really appreciate the effort you have been putting in to show your affection.
It means a lot.

I want a red dress. A dress that you would always ask me to wear for special events. "Why don't you put on that dress you look so nice in. The red one" you would say. It would be the dress I was going to wear for our first real date. For meeting your parents the first time. It would be the dress I would wear the night you would propose and the dress you would slowly take off of me when I said yes. Your friends would say "There they are. Over there. The man with the woman in the same red dress". 

There is no red dress. And there is no us. There's not even you. So I put on my black dress one more time, and go out in the night, finding admiration in every indifferent heart I pass.