Truth is, there were some days of April and May last year I ran away to the park and sometimes home during launchtime because I needed some alone time. Even though all the time I wasn't spending with you meant spending it alone. Do not misunderstand me; I did enjoy your company, but I am more of a loner. I don't say much and I don't laugh much and I don't show much.
But you do.

I was the new kid, and like all new kids I spent my first two months in there feeling like a brick trying to fit among tiles; I just couldn't follow the sequence. I was too red and too shapeless and too big for a pattern that sophisticated and small. Until you showed up in the picture, every morning while I made my way to school this intrusive thought of getting on the middle of the avenue and getting hit by a car broke in my mind.

You changed the game.
Our love story starts like most high-school-love-stories: on a school bus. But it ends like most love stories: like strangers.
What started as a friendship persisted thanks to you. Without even realizing you were staying over on mondays and tuesdays and wednesdays and I did on thursdays and fridays and saturdays. Eventually you got attached to my sisters and I got attached to your siblings 'cause-
how wouldn't I?
To your little brother cause he's awesome and to your sister 'cause she's like a mom and to your older brother 'cause even though I didn't get to know him very well, those times he did he had you roleplaying and watch you roleplay was amazing. The world he get you in. I got attached to all of them as they were all different versions of you.

June, July, August, September; I didn't need alone time any longer. I didn't want it either. All I wanted to do was to be with you. Here it is where it goes sick. I just wanted to protect you from everything, heal all of your wounds with my touch. Of course, I didn't know by then that for every damaged cell that made up your scars I healed, and for every wound I stitched, a new one was created. Sometimes two, sometimes three and sometimes four. They started growing on my very own skin too. The only explanation I could find by the end of october was-
that I was in love with you.

My dad and the girl who helps us out at home told me they ran into you on my building doors and all I've been doing ever since was thinking where could you have been coming from. The park? My museum? Or did you just passed by my door because I live here? Or it has nothing to do with me and it was just a godmotherfucking coincidence? Your dad's is way too far away for you to come and go this way and, if you did, you would do it on the other parallel street.
Jesus Christ I need to stop making homes out of thingst that make me weak.
Now you're gone and dating someone else and I am changing schools, trying to write down the words I've been saying to you all day long as I walked up and down all of our places in this city and I just-
don't know what to do with all this alone time left. I don't want it. I don't want it I don't want it. Im trying to remember what I used to do with it but i am just too sad to keep on writing