After eating three bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios while watching the rain come down on the trees in sheets, I head back upstairs. In the hall, outside my door, the purple envelope is waiting on me like it knew I would be back sooner or later. Like it knew I’m so pathetic that I would eventually need whatever love it has to give.

I pick it up and carry it into my closet, where I feel safer. I lay it on my dresser, remembering Carli the night she sat here—her face, her lips, the new places I kissed and touched her.

I slip out the card. It’s handmade and looks like a collage. On the front, Carli’s handing me an orange-looking flower, and purple rays shoot from her chest to mine. I can’t even lie—it’s beautiful and it feels like magic. Like love is really flowing from her heart to mine.

I know I should put the card down, but I can’t. I open it.

A whole page of her words that look like art. Handwritten letters that bend and loop and stay straight in curious places. Ls that never want to be lowercase. Ts that never want to be the same—short, straight, long, curvy, and crooked strokes crossing at wide-ranging spots along stems, which sometimes curve up at the ends. I remember seeing her handwriting all over her walls, but looking at it now makes me feel like I’m seeing a part of her for the first time.

Rex,

I don’t think it’s possible to tell you everything in my heart. I don’t have the words for it. Like if I tried, they wouldn’t be enough.

“I love you” isn’t enough.

I swear loving you is the only thing saving me right now. You just don’t know, this past month has been the worst time in my life (other than when I’m with you or talking to you or thinking about you). My whole world is falling apart. It’s too much to write here, but I will say I haven’t been handling it well. It’s like I don’t know what to do or who I am and it’s making me feel crazy.

Sorry I took the bad stuff in my life out on you. You don’t deserve it. I’ll never treat you like that again. I promise. Please forgive me. I love you.

Yours forever (and the day after that, and the day after that),

Carli

I can’t, I think, wiping tears from my face. I just can’t. I leave the card in the closet and go get my phone.

CARLI

I finally see it. After single-handedly bringing the Rex Carrington’s Epic Tirade video up to 300,000 views on YouTube, I finally understand. Rex never loved me. He couldn’t have. He doesn’t know love.