I really, really, really miss her.
Why is it that despite everything, my heart still beats only for her? That even when I say I hate her and I’m bitter, I still love her? That even when she broke my being to pieces, everything in me still screams her name? That even when she no longer cares, I still do?
When I touch my lips, it’s hers I remember.
When I look around me, it’s her I feel.
When I need comfort, it’s her I yearn for.
When I feel really good about the smallest of things, it’s her I want to share it with.
When I close my eyes, it’s her face I see.
Love dies eventually. Broken hearts mend. But until then… I continue to grieve.