May I call you Billy?
Honestly, so many names have been flying about the place this afternoon in relation to you, it’s hard to keep track.
I’ll stick with Billy. I know from Alyssa’s date with you that you prefer when you’re the focus of a conversation.
Oh, Billy. Billy, Billy, Billy.
There’s so much I want to say, so much I need your help with.
Today is my birthday, and it won’t be my happiest one.
Last night I was awake until 1am, crying into the warm shoulder of my best friend and the love of my life. I’d taken that same old bait my intrusive thoughts like to lay for me, and descended down that black hole of despair so many of us are familiar with.
It starts off like a breadcrumb trail, those old tapes on repeat: