he says my words make him feel like home but that can’t be possible because he’s never heard me sing. he lives two hours away and says a lot of cheesy things. he melts my heart with every chemistry pun he makes. he writes about me like he falls in love with me every day and promises that with those words he will make me fall in love with, not himself, but myself instead. i want to believe him when he calls me beautiful but I’m afraid he doesn’t mean it. he’s a mixture of fumes, and it’s hard because my lungs are too full already. he offers a smoke but is still too far. sometimes he writes songs about the girl who left him and still it’s me who falls. he tells me about his day and how his mother treats him with cold medicine on high fever. with every compliment, he takes my heart to another world. it was already half full, but i think it’s empty now. he says empty hearts are terrifying because with every ounce of their love, in the end only you will be the one with an empty heart left, with sharp pieces of the last one. he doesn’t quite make sense and i try not to giggle but he still makes me laugh and i like that. he talks about kisses and movie nights like they’re the two things he lives for. he talks about my kisses before he has even felt it. it’s scary how much the thought of his lips against mine affects me. he flirts with me but he doesnt love me. he couldn’t ever love me, i’m sure. he doesnt know the meaning of love yet, i think. but it still scares me that he might actually be falling for the girl he so fondly talks about. she makes him happy, i’ve observed. i don’t want to fall for him because he reminds me a little too much of the boys back home. my best friend doesn’t want me to fall for him because she refuses to believe anyone will ever be enough for me. but he and her, both think i’m beautiful with flowers on my face. and though, i want them to grow, they need light and i’m consumed with darkness. he gives me light but it goes away every morning. he wants to make me feel like home but that’s not possible because my home smells like death and though he might be the only thing keeping me alive, happiness never stays and neither do I.