You.

You are the one I miss greatly.

The one who first had my heart and the one who first threw it away.

My first and last.

Now here I am. It is only 10.32pm but I am tired.

I have been thinking of you for hours.

But that is the same old, same old.

I haven’t seen you in over a month.

In theory, you should be fading.

But my memory is a powerful thing.

As cliché as this is; I can still feel you lips on mine.

Our hearts beating as one. 

I feel your laugh, your breath, your smile.

I feel all these things to my core.

I feel the words you said.

The ones you meant and the ones you didn’t.

I feel the hollow ache in my chest where you used to be.

Now this isn’t some beautiful piece of writing.

It doesn’t have a greater meaning.

It says what it means, plain and simple.

And I could say so much more.

But you already know it all.

You chose to give up rather than fight.

But you made that choice alone.

I have no explanation.

I have nothing left of you.

Just as you intended.

I am glad you can forget it all.

I am glad that it’s so fucking easy for you.

But as the rain is falling.

And the tears are rolling.

I am falling apart.

Sorry love.

It just isn’t so easy for me.

God, but I wish it could be.

I wish I could have peace of mind.

I wish I could move on, my memory wiped.

I wish that you would miss me, that you would feel something.

Anything.

But mostly.

After everything.

I still wish for you.