The Worst

There's a certain fatigued, nauseous and ripe sadness that trails behind the face of November. The feeling you get walking into a warm house after your hands and feet have turned numb mingled with the feeling of realizing how into you he is. It's some comfort I never thought I would know, especially being in such an iron relationship with someone I thought was meant for me. The last true days of adolescence.

We all find someone that hits us with such cyclonic force we can't even make out left from right, right from wrong. It was just impressive that you took me to your favorite place to think and you rang me up from your jail cell and tugged so gently on my flannel sleeve before you asked if I could be yours in that quiet little house. 

You were the gentlest, and that's what made you the worst.