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To my next girlfriend. Hi, I’m Kevin. I absolutely love french fries. I can eat them all day, in just about any form you could think of. And I don’t drink much. But for the times that I do, I tend to drown myself with every gulp of burning liquor that I could find. It’s easier than swallowing all of the things that I feel for you. I hate goodbyes. I have a really odd fascination with sand castles and ice sculptures. And maybe it’s because I tend to choose to hold on to the things that will only last for a few moments. It's temporary, but at least it's predictable. I’m a creator. I’ve written poems for every heartbreak I’ve had, wondering if I'm still trapped inside these paragraphs that weigh me down. I'd make these run-on sentences thinking that we could last just a bit longer. As each stumble I’ve had was like adding more salt to my wounds. I’m slowly beginning to love myself again, one week at a time. Though my depression may kick me back down, I always find a way to get right up. Just please be patient with me. I may not always know what to say at the right time, but hopefully, my actions would speak louder than words. For a while, I was starting to lose myself. Picking up the pieces that were left off, I’m confident enough to say that I’m still whole. Yet my eyes would never say so, I guess it’s easier than it seems... to spot a lie that can't be true. Desperately looking for clarification. These sorts of things have taken their toll on me. Mending ‬bridges where it's should've burnt out. I guess I care too much to let it stay that way. Going through ashes and smoke, only realizing that all the pain and suffering I've been through was just another joke. At least I'm happy to say, that I've tried my best. Praying to God, that you won't turn out like the rest.