I am not going to miss you tonight.

I told myself I wouldn’t. I know that I shouldn’t. I am where I am supposed to be. I have been more productive in the last three weeks than I have been in the last three months. I finally feel free to be happy again. I finally don’t feel like a nagging bitch all the time. I feel useful and creative again.

So why do I miss you so much?

Why do I wish you would just call and say you were wrong.

Could you be wrong?

That isn’t possible, is it? For you to be wrong about being in love with someone?

You know when you can’t live without someone.

And you are.

Living.

Without me.

And you are happy, I suppose.

I should be, too.

So why am I not?

Brain, please don’t dream of him tonight.  Eyes, please don’t search for him tonight. Arms, please don’t reach for him tonight. Heart, please don’t hurt for him tonight.

💔

 

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Published by

Amber💘

Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the oldest child, a lover of improv and comedy, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty good liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

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