dear deer dearest,

it's late at night, as it usually is when i write these painful letters. but as of now i'm sitting on the roof like we always used to do. the sky is beautiful.

does it make me a loser to say that i wish you could see it? i mean, you can see it, in fact you're probably looking at the same sky right now, but i wish you could see it. i want you to see it with me.

i want it to feel like old times when we would seek up to the roof with cherry-lime coolers and talk about life when we were both drunk enough.

but it will never feel like that again, will it?

i screwed up, and this time i know it.

with all the love in the world,

the girl with the broken heart