J

I once loved a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, the kind of eyes that could burn a hole through you. I loved him unwaveringly, despite the fingertip bruises he left on my ribs. I loved him despite the heat he radiated in the summer, burning me up until my skin felt red and blistered by the sun. I loved him because and despite, because and despite. It was the kind of love that’s self-destructive, like he was. The kind that manifests into that sinking feeling you get when you watch him get high. The kind that you choose despite the knowledge that he can never offer you anything at all. Simply put, the kind you choose because you fucking hate yourself. I once loved a boy with brown hair and brown eyes; I still see him sometimes in people I meet.