I know how much pain you’re in. I understand why you’ve made the bathroom floor your home and why you haven’t eaten anything besides cheez-its in over a week. I get it, Angel.

He hurt you.

Angel, I know you don’t want to pick yourself off the ground and limp back to the unforgiving world like nothing ever happened. I know this feels like the end for you.

Or at least you want it to be.

I know you had a panic attack last night that left you screaming and crying while throwing your pillow around the room while his words echoed mercilessly inside your head,

“I don’t love you anymore.”

And I know you’re still in love with him, Angel. I know you thought you were stronger than him.

I know your argument.

“It was 3am and we were laughing harder than my will could take and his…