Because Despite All of That – I Still Miss You
Shared by Rose Otero.
I did it again. I somehow managed to stumble upon a picture of us.
And with it came that unduly familiar pain – shooting up through my body – once a dull ache – and now, a razor sharp reminder of that which is love; To be at your most vulnerable state – giving your partner the ultimate power – the power to break you.
But that will not be my story. I am not broken. And I will not continue to do this to myself.
So here it is, all of the emotion and the feelings that have been sealed inside; for in the instance that I stumble upon the most nominal memory of you once again – the sharp pain will not return.
I miss you. Even in the strangest of moments. Today was a picture. Last week – the scent of your cologne on a shirt you left in my car.
But once the inconsequential reminiscing, and thoughts of what could have and would have been ceases, I am left with only anger and doubt.
Anger that I believed all of your words because I wanted to see the good in you; only to have you deceive and prove me wrong.
Anger that I was there when you needed me; only to have you turn your back and look away when I needed you most.
Anger that I defended you against those who spoke poorly of you; only to hear all of the repulsive things you had to say in return.
Anger that I compromised my standards, my morals for you – and in the end it still was not enough, you wanted more.
Anger that you HAD more, and in all of the time that passed you could not, for a moment, be selfless enough to tell me the truth.
Anger. Because despite all of that I still miss you.
Anger. Because I know no matter how much I miss you, it will never be the same.
You created doubt. And with doubt, even the most stable foundations will crumble.
So I will not let you break me. I will not let this break me. I will not wait for you.
This sharp pain will pass; Days will turn to weeks, weeks will turn to months, and in due time I will be able to wake without missing your arm’s embrace, without your name across the screen of my phone, without the sinking feeling at the thought of never taking a day to play hookie like high school kids with you again. I miss you. I miss us.
By and by the sharp pain will be dulled, and that dull ache will continue, until it is no longer an ache, but rather an empty void to be filled with laughter, family, travels, and whatever else my heart may desire.
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