Basically, on nights like this I wear my headphones and listen to slow songs that talk about falling in and out of love. They also talk about walking around, and seeing beauty, and getting high. They’re all terrible, but they’re my favorite things to listen to. See, nights like these for me mean remembering you and your smile and your voice and your face and the way you said my name. Nights like these make me wish that I was lying in your casket next to you for the past 5 months. Nights like this makes me wish I was dead because this place sucks without you. And it makes me sad and angry and guilty and happy that you’re gone. I miss you, W. I really do but you’re not here to be here with me and there’s nothing I can do to change that fact. My tears won’t bring you back magically, and my heart hurting more and more everyday won’t bring you back either. Me acting out won’t, and I wish it would. I want to listen to your voice one more time.