On the good days, missing you is a warm breeze. I close my eyes and bask in the comfort of what once was, what could have been. I think of your eyes and the way they softened when you spoke to me. I think of your voice and the way it wrapped itself around my name so perfectly. On the good days, missing you is warmth and nostalgia and comfort. On the good days, I can miss you without feeling like my world is crashing.
On the bad days, missing you is drowning. My lungs burn as I gasp for air but they fill with water. I replay every moment in my head over and over again. The moment I saw you give up on us — give up on me. The moment you told me I was wonderful in the same breath you shattered me. The moment you looked at me and your eyes told me everything you never did - the moment your eyes stopped being happy to see me. I am stuck in this constant loop of reliving the moment before the storm, the moment before you left me shattered on the pavement. On the bad days, I remember that you’re probably better off — happier — without me. I am not someone people miss; I am not someone people regret walking away from.
i wonder if you ever think of me - unsent messages 2.0 (1/?) by (ds)
(via little-miss-tragedy)
