I had things scattered all around your house. I wonder, will you notice that I’m missing? Will you look at where my toothbrush used to be and miss me?
No… No, I suppose you won’t.
I don’t want to think about how easily it must be for you, by now, to say goodbye. I wonder if you know that it’s not supposed to be easy. You’ve had your fair share of those, I’m sure.
All of these things that you’ve given back to me, I hate putting them away. I don’t want these here, I want them there. But I guess we can’t always have what we want.
It’s hard to look at you now. I don’t know if you know that. It’s hard to joke around with you like you didn’t break my heart. Because – in case you didn’t know – you did.
To say I only miss you would be leaving out so much more than I’d mean. I do, I do miss you. I also miss your dogs. Even your kids. Your bed, your house, your tiny couch. I miss everything that had to do with you.
After being with so many others before, I’m sure I didn’t even leave a temporary bruise. Knowing that hurts more because of the aching in my chest that’s only been getting worse. I gave you all of me. But I guess I never got all that much of you.
I deserve more than you, I know that. I deserve someone who wants me for me. Someone who wants me for my crazy emotions and deep, daunting feelings. I won’t say I wish it was you, but it would be lying if I said that I didn’t.
I don’t know what to do with all of this new hurt in my chest. I don’t know what to do with all of the things I still want to tell you. You never told me you loved me back, the last time I gave you those words. It still stings. I hate myself for wanting to tell you even now. But I guess, so I’ve learned, that’s what love does.
And I hate that I love you.
But I hate it more that you don’t love me.