the thought of you in bed smoking cigarettes gives me palpitations in my heart. I wish it were easy to make sad girls happy, but sad girls, the really sad ones, the inherently sad ones, they just are that way, and they’re all the more beautiful for it. You wish they weren’t because you don’t want them to suffer. You don’t want them to know silence like it’s their own personal wedding march. You don’t want them to shake their hearts up like snowglobes out of boredom. But at the same time, if they didn’t do those things, you wouldn’t be drawn to them the way you are. You wouldn’t be able to love them without ever getting tired of it. What I’m trying to say is, I’d rather you be sad than be someone else. And I’m sorry.