Years go by and I still miss you. I still think about you all the time. It still hurts like a MF, I still cry about it, I still rerun the situation in my head over and over and over, trying to think of a something I could do then that wouldn't make it all go so horribly wrong. My life keeps getting more and more depessing, I am growing more and more isolated from everyone, my physical and mental health keeps deteriorating and one look at me would tell you that I've been through hell since the last time we were hanging out and that I am not okay in the head. It's stupid. I've been through so much crap in my life, of all sorts and kinds: physical, psychological and sexual abuse, extreme poverty, chronic illness and disability, you name it. But in the end one thing that truly broke me wasn't being hurt, it was learning what being happy is like, having something so endlessly precious, something you cherish with all your heart - and then losing it forever. I don't think I will ever get over losing you. Even if I lived to a very old age, I'll grow into Rose from Titanic, grey, blind and decrepit and starting my story of a loss with an "It's been 84 years".
You probably stopped thinking about me at all after a few months. I wasn't your only person, I was one of your many people. I was very replacable. But I wish you would think of me once in a while. I wish you would realize how badly I want you back.
