Snags in moving on

So maybe I don’t love you anymore. Maybe I don’t ache for your touch or daydream about your smile anymore.

But I miss the way it felt.

Sitting on the counter while you made dinner, and lying with you in bed tangled up.

I miss running my hands through your hair and feeling your touch.

When I lay in bed with no one beside me, I don’t picture you there anymore. But I do know that I miss having someone there.

I miss my happiness as though the stress was never an issue.

I lived a little too much in the future with you, and not enough in the present. If there’s one thing I could re-do with us, it would be that. I would bask in the togetherness when had, when we had it – not beam at the improbable future us.

I hate how difficult it is moving on. It would be easier if I could just hate you.

A selfish prayer: I hope that I move on first.


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