I always liked the way you wear your heart on your sleeve. These stains in my shirt, this food in my teeth. I hear you got out of hospital, I’m sorry I never called or wrote you a letter, I hope you’re feeling better. Why do you always get like this? You know I’d really miss you. You always get like this. You are my little miss fortune. I always liked the way you say “thank you” when I say that you are strange. I wish you’d told me about the drugs and the disorder but I’m glad your self-destructive plans fell through. And, I’m alone in my bed wondering if you’re dead. I’m alone, I spent today wandering around wondering if you’re ok.