thirteen november
twelve : fifty-three p.m.

it started over aim. it ended upstairs in his room with a trash can full of used tissues.

he admitted everything.

"i can't stop thinking about you," he said. "i can't fall asleep, i can't get my work done..i want to be around you; i want to talk to you, but i can't."

an hour and twenty minutes. and i can't do anything about it.