I don’t think anyone realizes that she was my whole life. I don’t normally take pictures of myself or events or really anything. I don’t find joy in documentation. I don’t see the importance. But when I’m looking through my photos app after everything, just to get one more glimpse of her face normally and I can’t find one because I deleted everything after the breakup because I thought it would help me get over her, and I’m sobbing in my bed because the thirty days passed in

Wait! Wait! Let me say hello!