It’s been about a month now. And I don’t think about you any less than I did when we were together.
Because we weren’t really together, were we? It was impossible, and yet we were. I considered you to be my boyfriend. You considered me to be your girlfriend. But we weren’t actually together. I never met you. You lived 800 miles away. That’s I why I ended it. It was silly.
Then why do I still love you?
Why do I have to block you from my head during the day so that I can actually get work done?
Why do I lay in my bed at night, awake for hours fantasizing about us being together?
It’s so confusing. I don’t know what to do about it. I miss you so much. More than anything. Because we had a connection, we were so right for each other. But if I want to be with someone, I should be able to actually BE with them, right? That’s what I thought, and now I’m not so sure. Because I can’t help feeling like I made the wrong choice, like I let my soulmate slip away.
Am I being overdramatic? You might say I am. But this is what I feel. Last night, I read The Notebook. Cliche, I know. But I did, and it reminded me so much of us. The forbidden love, etc. When it ended, I cried. At first I cried because the book was so sad. And then when I stopped thinking about the book, I just thought of you. And I cried about you. And how much I miss you. And if you think of me as much as I think of you. I hope you do.
I just can’t shake this off. It’s so frustrating, because I want to just FORGET you.
But you’ve made that impossible.