She didn’t stop writing me each morning and night. During the school day and rehearsals, she’d still walk up to me and check to make sure I was okay. She’d ask me how my heart was, even though I refused to answer her. She was determined to make me not feel alone, and dammit, it was working. But I couldn’t have her, and she couldn’t have me—not in the way she wanted, at least. She deserved a full type of love, and mine was broken into pieces.
