Dear Bronte,

I didn't cry when
Selene broke up with me.
I didn't cry when
she twisted Oscar's knife.
I didn't cry when
I felt my world crumbling in.

There were no more tears left to cry.
This hollowness in my chest wouldn't allow any of them to fall.
Wallowing in the deep shadows of my mind, made me fall into something worse than sadness.
Something darker than simple heartbreak.

First Phoebe and then Oscar.
Now Selene was gone too.
Each one left their own marks on me before going.

I wondered,
What was wrong with me?
Why did everyone keep leaving?
I thought of my birth father and wondered if he saw whatever Phoebe, Oscar, and Selene saw too.
Was that the reason he left so long ago? Was that the reason he didn't bother to stick around?

What was it about me that made people leave?

I didn't cry because
I was too tired to cry.
I was too tired to feel things.

I never thought you'd stick around after our fall out.
I never thought you'd bother to
help me heal.

Looking back on it now,
I should've known better.
You were such a kind soul.
You were so fragile and sweet.
Of course you'd check on both parties.
Of course you'd comfort both
pained victims.

Selene had felt the keen sting of
Love's terrible whip.
And I, I didn't know what I was feeling anymore.
Heartbreak wasn't a powerful enough word to describe the anguish coursing through my veins.

Whatever it was,
you stuck through it all.
You stuck through my mindless babbles and tearless stained cheeks.
Shame burned my throat when I admitted how much I liked
those girly things.

The makeup and the dresses.
My old Barbie's kept hidden
under my bed.
Shame overcame the heartbreak and the heavy and I finally cried in the safe confines of my room.

Your arms were so warm
when you held me.
I'll never forget the way you looked at me with such warmth and sweetness.
There was such kindness in your eyes.
You never said anything more,
just held me while I cried.

Thank you, Bronte.

Thank you.

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