If a boy makes you doubt yourself every time your lips part and your throat vibrates with some comment, some valid argument, some romantic confession, do not love this boy. Don’t ever slit your throat and rip out your spoken courage, don’t ever fall into silence for a boy. He won’t care that your heart jolts like lightning connecting with a grand, bare tree in the middle of the night. He won’t hear the deafening crack as the branches crumble and you lose a piece of what makes you sturdy, what makes you strong. This boy loves himself. Three years lost, drop the curtain, I think it’s my cue. You already left. I’m leaving too.