I’ve finally come to the realisation that I don’t actually have a romantic longing for any of the boys I know.

This is an epiphany for me, because I fall into an infinite spiral of loneliness that tricks me into believing I want to be in a relationship with every single boy who shows me they care about me. 
That is fucking stupid.
I care for them in ridiculous amounts, but only as people who are going to support me, and make bad jokes with me, and tell me I’m pretty when I feel horrendous. I need them, but if they left me, I wouldn’t spend my days eating chocolate and watching romantic comedies. 

I’m yours, you know, and I’ll love you still in Hell.

Here is a thing I wrote my ex-boyfriend when he wanted my pledge to him.

Here is my pledge:
I will kill all spiders, unless they are shelob, in which case I will let you have the elf light. I will cuddle you when I force you to watch scary movies with me. I will teach you to be a better asian. I will praise you & all your stories always. I will let you do whatever you want in bed, even if they are weird things. I will make you breakfast in bed EVERY DAY. I will teach you to love Kanye. I will wake you up in the middle of the night for kisses. I will always make promises in THREEEEES. I will call you at work to tell you you’re cute. 

Letters from my ex-boyfriend:

I love you too Elly. You’re amazing. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you. My list of loves goes like this: you, Brad Pitt, breathing, you, Howie, masturbating. You’re pretty high up there. Also: on there twice. Wow.
I am really happy we’re together. You make me happy. I love you so much, Elly.

when i leave this place

the distances i have described in my poems
will expand to find me
but they will never find me

when my head touches your head
your face hits my face at the speed of light

holding it a little

i want to cross an enormour distance with you
to learn the wisdom of lonely animals with low IQs
i want to remember you as a river
with a flower on it

i’ll be right back

I want you like Anne Frank wanted no one to read her fucking diary.

Goodnight messages for the gorgeous asshole that will forever rule my heart:

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Nothing you confess could make me love you less.