“I miss you. I miss your face. I miss your voice. I miss the way you would say my name. I miss your eyes and your lips. I miss the way you held my hand and the way you held me in your arms. I miss the way you put your arms around me when I sat on your lap. I miss the way you pushed my hair out of my face to see me better. I miss the way you kissed me. I miss the way you acted like I was the only girl in the world. I miss the way you played with my hair and stroked my back. I miss the way you laid on me and sang. I miss the way we cuddled and enjoyed the quiet. I miss your stupid laugh and the way you only ever seemed to do it with me. I miss the way I played with your hair. I miss the way you would kiss my forehead any chance you got. I miss the way you would look me in the eyes and kiss my hand. I miss talking to you all day, everyday. I miss your dimples and your smug face after we had been together. I miss the way you missed me as soon as I left. I miss the feelings you gave me and how happy I made you. I miss calling you my boyfriend and I miss the fuzziness I got when you called me your girlfriend.
And I know I should be over you, like the way you’re over me, but everytime I think I am, I hear a song or read something and I’m right back there. Back where I shouldn’t be. Back where you’re ever so clearly not.
All I want is for you to be happy. And if that means with another girl, so be it. I just know I can’t be in your life if that’s so, it will break my heart a little bit more everytime I see you. And I can’t live like that.
I guess I cared for you more than I thought. And I already knew I cared for you a great deal.”
— An exert from a message I’ll never send him…