This is for you.

This is for the wide eyes at three in the morning.

This is for the salty wells collected in my pillowcase.

This is for the sobs trapped in my mattress when I think of the thoughts that must run through your head when you’re alone in the dark.

This is for the read messages left open with no reply,

for the times I just needed to hear from you to know that you were alright.

This is for a ringtone left at its highest volume all night,

just in case you need me.

This is for your silence that is so, so loud.

This is for lights left on,

for the fear that going to sleep means waking to you being gone.

This is for the ice in my veins every time you tell me that you’re feeling sad,

for the fact that I know you feel like that every day.

This is for my desire to hold you so tightly that you can’t fall apart.

This is for you,

and this is for every moment that I put you before myself.

This is for you to know that I understand that you’re hurting.

This is for you to know that when you’re in pain, I feel it, too.

But this is also for me.

This is for me to remember that you’re not something broken for me to fix.

This is for knowing that the only person I have control over is myself.

So this is for you

in hopes that you’ll understand

when it can’t all be for you.