I’ve made my apologies, and said I was wrong. I’ve overthought and overtalked and overdramatised this entire thing.
But it still comes down to the fact that I miss the way you would put your arms around my waist and kiss me on the top of my head.
You don’t do that anymore. Now you just hug me like any two friends would. Like just friends should.
And eventually I might find someone else to put his arms around my waist and kiss the top of my head. Sadly there’s an inferiority complex that keeps me from believing that he’ll even acknowledge my existence.
So now all I can do is miss the fact that you used to do that.
I don’t miss that it was you who did it. I just miss that someone did it.
And when I die alone with 27 cats, I’ll still miss the way it feels to have someone put his arms around my waist and kiss the top of my head.