subject line: you're gone.


columbus, ohio

Mental illness was the thing that took you away from me. You might still be alive, but you’re gone.

You used to be my boyfriend. We were going to get married, no doubt. No one had ever fit me so well. Everything about you felt like home. Even my mom said you reminded her of an old sweater- perfectly cozy and warm.

You were also the most handsome boy I had ever seen. 22 years of life did nothing but make you beautiful and wonderful. From the outside you seemed perfect. Tall, blonde, smart, a varsity athlete at a big 10 school, loving the Lord, serving the poor.

And then the mental illness hit and destroyed you. You lost 20 pounds. You stopped laughing, your smiles were fake to me. We fought for dear life but in the end had to fall apart. You weren’t capable of loving someone else anymore, you didn’t even believe you were worthy of love.

And now I see you around and we make small talk and I know the man you were is gone. You’re completely gone. You’re gone.

How am I supposed to breathe?