Like every weekday I'm up at seven. My mind knows it's weekend, but my heart doesn't seem to care. It wants me to wake up early and start missing him again for the next 15 hours.
As I lie awake in my bed watching some tv shows it all plays again in my head. All the good things, and all the bad things. It takes a lot for me not to call him to tell him I hate the fact that he is no longer the person I fell in love with. But I know it won't change a thing.
The only thing I have felt since letting him go is uncomfortable. Uncomfortable about how he is no longer in my life but most of all uncomfortable about the way he left my life. Great love stories deserve a great ending. So our ending makes me wonder about the fact that maybe our story wasn't so great at all...
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