ᴜɴᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ » ᴄᴏʀʙʏɴ ʙᴇssᴏɴ

you.

You were having trouble meeting my eyes, and that's when I knew.

Your fame had been growing steadily. I don't know why, how, I didn't see it coming.

You were going on tour.

I was going to be left in the city I despised without a redeemer for three months. Three months without you, without watching you bound into Willis', without seeing you smile right in front of me.

Three months of loneliness.

That night, when anxiety robbed me of my sleep once again, I repeated to myself over and over and over again that I would be okay, trying in vain to convince myself that it was true.

But there was ice in my veins. And I knew it wouldn't be okay.