I miss you. I really really really miss you. I  know that I should probably hate you. Because you promised you wouldn’t hurt me. because you pushed me away. But I just can’t find it in myself to hate you. I was doing good the past two days. Keeping myself busy, distracting myself, exhausting myself, keeping my emotions to a minimum. But today I failed miserably. I hung out with my friend, and we went downtown, and every place we went in I just kept thinking “she would like this” “she would like that.” And then we went to a movie, and it got worse. All I did was miss everything we ever did. I replayed that weekend in my head. From you asking me to come over after work, to rehearsal that morning and you following me around, to driving around and you telling me all that, to laying on your couch starting at sitting a foot away, to being really fucking cute and cuddly, to not wanting to leave, to getting your text telling me your secret. I miss holding hands with you, and listening to all sorts of music with you, to laying in bed with you. I could stare into your beautiful brown eyes for the rest of my life. I miss your smile, and your laugh, and your hugs, and your kisses, and your heartbeat, and your breathe, and your voice. I blame myself, I don’t know if I should, but I do. I can’t help to think “well maybe you should have done this or said that or acted like this, then you’d still have her.” It wasn’t fair. I didn’t even get you for a full two months. Monday would be our two-months. I know I should hate you. Despite everything you say, I still am convinced that you’re perfect. I still find you to be an angel. I love you no less than the time of that first kiss. I’m still in love with you, and I think that’s what’s killing me. That I fell for you so quickly, and became so attached. I miss you, and I miss us. I would do anything to have you back. I would kill to have you back. I would fucking die to have you back.