I miss you. If I bump into you in the next few weeks, which I probably will, I will not tell you this because it isn’t allowed. Lots of things aren’t allowed. Any form of communication. Thinking of you. Wondering. Missing. Even talking about you. None of these things are allowed because we ended. That’s it, story over. Wrapped up and no one wants to hear about it anymore, least of all me. Except I do. I do because I miss you so badly sometimes. Not the way we were, not like a lover, but like a friend. Because you were the person I would turn to when something was so, so funny. And you were who all the songs were about. And you would always be a soft warm thumping heart for me to hide next to. I feel like someone who belonged in my life so completely has been erased and now there’s just this gaping, ugly hole. Because we really fit together. We were best friends. And then all of a sudden we weren’t. All that stuff happened, and it really sucked. But then you were just gone. That’s not how it should have gone. That’s not right, it should not have ended like that. Now I’m just confused and sad and mad and lost. But I say everything’s fine and i make disparaging comments about you to my friends because I suppose you hurt me very much. That’s what I never said. You hurt me and I was just a burnt-up ball of nothing inside for a long time. But that little burnt-up ball was cleverly hidden. It was encased in layers and layers of everything is okay. I almost didn’t notice it myself. But once I did, it was like a lost tooth. You keep running over the space with your tongue because something used to be there and now it’s not. I’m sorry for pretending you didn’t hurt me. That’s an odd apology to make, but I feel it has merit. Because that hurt you, didn’t it? When I made like I wasn’t affected by any of your sorrow. I didn’t know. And I don’t know if we can ever be anything like what we were. I almost feel like I know you too well for that, now. In the beginning of the end, we tried to go halfway and it didn’t work. We slipped back into our old rhythms because it was natural. Because I could not see you for anything other that what you were, I could not change or reduce my feelings for you. Cold turkey it is, then. But I miss you.