Seams || d.h.

Collar Full

Two days.

That's how long it took until you texted me.

We talked for what it seemed like hours. Who would have thought I would ever stay up all night talking to a stranger.

This went on for months.

You, with your broken perspective of life.
Me, with my damaged soul.
Somehow, we bonded over our fractured spirits.

Finally, we decided to meet for coffee.

I always knew you were broken, even before you walked into the coffee shop that windy afternoon. It wasn't a topic you wanted to talk about much, but I noticed. From the dark circles under your eyes caused by sleepless nights thinking about your purpose in life, to the moments at 4am where you told me you didn't know what exactly you were doing. And truthfully, I guess that is why I fell so madly in love with you.

You made me want to fix myself, and at the same time, I wanted to fix you.

These meetings turned into a weekly habit. Talking to you was like taking drugs, the more I had, the more I wanted.

But the worst part was the aftertaste of it: I couldn't help but feel I was going to regret this in the future.

And that feeling never went away.