I've been up for days. I feel void, because I'm thinking of everything that happened. The scars, the words, the pain, the comfort, the culprit — but why, why am I thinking of you?

I started crying.

I can't imagine what you must've felt after I destroyed everything.

I could only cry at the thought.

I don't know why, or how I started to but I think you heard next door.

I wish you hadn't.