a letter to the universe.

Dear Universe,

I’m going to need you to make it stop. JUST. MAKE. IT STOP. The insanity. The madness. The feelings. The missing him at night, and the thinking of him first thing in the morning. Is that really too much to ask for?

And how about you stop sending me signals … that aren’t really signals … but in the back of mind I hope are signals. Because it has to be more than a coincidence that I’m sitting in this restaurant we once ate at while the Giants are playing, and a guy with the same car as you parks right outside, while the radio is playing that one song that reminds us of each other. Riiiiiight? FUCK. I can’t wait for the day that a sign is just a sign that says “Stop,” “No parking anytime,” or “Loading zone only.” Not, “Maybe you should call him,” “You should be together” or “He misses you too.”

-girlsarethenewboys.