𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟸𝟹 ; 𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚛

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ; 𝟸𝟹 ; 𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚛

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

Dear, my Lawrence, my forever, my love

I'm pathetic, Lawrence. Tears won't stop soaking the paper, ruining the ink you purchased for me. Scribbling all of my words to you. Yet somehow, I can't stop crying.

I rarely cry, I didn't cry at my mothers death, I didn't cry at my broken arm, I won't cry at my father's death.. but I've cried over you repeatedly. Every time I cry when I lose you, and somehow I didn't take the hint that maybe I should've kept you, safe with me. I've spent enough time recently thinking of us, how I treated you, how much time I wasted, that I remember each time I cried.

I cried after you told me you loved me, that first time outside with your hands wrapped around me when we were only 17.

You asked if I would ever love you the same way I did Presley. I knew I loved you, or at least I used to, but at that moment, the month after I decided to elope with Presley, you told me. I didn't want you. Well I did, but I didn't want to. So I told you no. I blame it on me, but I also blame it on you, Renny. That I said no, I mean. You chose the first month I started pursuing Presley. I didn't love her. I never did. I loved you I always had, but that month I made the stupid decision to go for her. Your family wanted me to choose her, I felt obligated.

If I had waited a month, or if you had done it earlier, we would've been happy right now, together with none of this having ever happened. However we can't, because I said no.

I felt terrible when I said it, covered in rain and silt, and I knew immediately that I shouldn't have. But I couldn't take it back.

You cried. In my arms. All while I knew I loved you and that I just didn't have the gut to say it back.

I held you and I smelt the warm vanilla in your hair and your clean jasmine perfume, I felt your soft skin under my touch and I heard your soft cries, and I somehow still told you I didn't want you. even though your touch is the only thing I loved. I was so endearing during this, because how I adored you, and your touch just made me want to scream my desire for you.

I should've said it, I should've pushed it out, but I didn't.

Thinking of it all made me realize how meant to be we are, and how each time we made advances we were seconds off from each other. If we had waited a day or a week, we would have been together so much sooner. We were always trying to be together, always.

I'll make it happen.

The way you looked at me, the way the words flew out of my mouth like nothing, I'm disgusted with myself just how you are with me.

I'm sorry Renny.

Forever yours, Tate.

𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸

"She's fine.." I mumble, "Just didn't feel well."

A lie like this, in this cocky and disgusting tone, only made me feel disgusting.

Lawrence looks at me one more time, her eyes full of pain and disgust, and my stomach churns.

I knew that that was one of the last times she'd ever look my in the eyes again, that this morning was the last time I'd ever kiss her, and that her I love you was the last one I'd hear. So I pay attention while she looks at me, it was only a second or two long, but I wanted to make it feel like it lasted forever. Even if it's the most hurt I've ever seen her, I wanted to keep her face in my head.

I know how she reacts when I yell at her, and it's why I stopped yelling at her completely.

She stops caring about you if you yell at her, or at least she acts like she does until she gets over it. It happened once when we were little, and once when she begged me to choose her and not Presley a year or two ago. I wish I had accepted her proposal, her pleas. I wish she had known.