These days, it seems that if I were nothing but a motionless statue you passed in the street, you would take no notice of me as you are now so familiar to the face you used to adore when I was first carved into your city.
Please know that if you date me, I am a very touchy person. I will like to pet your head and hold your hand, rub your shoulders or hug you a lot. Simply put, to physically feel you in some way is very comforting to me and I can’t really apologize for it, it just feels natural to me and makes me happy.
After we broke up, I was happily drunk with my new freedom but now I’m fucking hungover thinking about us. Half of me is craving to call you but the other is still hoping that the Advil will stop the headaches.
I miss you when something really good happens, because you’re the one I want to share it with. I miss you when something is troubling me, because you’re the one who understands me so well. I miss you when I laugh and cry, because I know that you are the one that makes my laughter grow, and my tears disappear. I miss you all the time, but I miss you the most when I lay awake at night, and think of all the wonderful times that we spent with each other for those were some of the best and most memorable times of my life.
The worst way for friendships to end is for literally nothing to go wrong, you just stop talking. They stop messaging you to see how you’re doing and you get sick of being the first one to initiate conversation so you just let the friendship go and wonder how that person is doing and never hear from them again.
Or perhaps is is that time doesn’t heal wounds at all, perhaps that is the biggest lie of them all, and instead what happens is that each wound penetrates the body deeper and deeper until one day you find that the sheer geography of your bones - the angle of your hips, the sharpness of your shoulders, as well as the luster of your eyes, the texture of your skin, the openness of your smile - has collapsed under the weight of your griefs.