shitty love

i had always felt that at a certain point in my life everything would make sense. everything would align. everything would be right in the world. it's gradual but i'm beginning to fear that that will never happen. i can begin working out again, kicking my ass every week, drinking half gallons of whole milk every day, looking in the mirror and yes, seeing the results, but by then i'll probably lose my hair or lose a parent or fall to my knees in agony for something else.

this is a terrible love letter, but if i fall apart i'll fall apart loving you.