I Miss You Again...

Damn it all. I miss you again. It seems I can't do anything without thinking of your face, your voice, your touch...just...you. I thought I was over you, thought I could live without thinking of you. But I can't. Try as I might, I just can't. Instead, I miss you more.

I can't believe I'm sitting in my room reminiscing about my time with you, while you're probably out with someone knew. I'm probably the last thing on your mind...I bet you never miss me the way I do you, bet you don't almost cry when you're in the center of your swimming pool, bet you don't dream of me the way I do you. That's something else that started again. The dreams.

I used to dream of you a lot, back when it was first over. Then again when we stopped being friends. But it's been months, and now I'm starting to dream of you again, dream of you holding onto me when life gets too rough, dream of you telling me you love me, even when I know it's all a lie. I miss that, even if it wasn't real.

I had a dream about you last night. I tried to run from you, said I didn't want to get trapped in this mess called love ever again. You finally caught up with me, though. You always were faster. It ended when we kissed. I woke up with tears in my eyes.

I bet, if you're reading this, you're wondering where all this emotion is coming from. Well, I tried to get over you. I found someone knew. But someone else brought you up, and then that was it. My new world came crashing down. That person should've known that my scars were still raw, the pain still vivid, still alive in my heart. But he didn't. And he hurt me. And the someone new that I mentioned? Gone.

I miss that someone new, but they aren't gone like you are. You are gone forever. Never to come back, I'm sure. I was too much of a bitch. Even as I write this, I keep looking over towards the door, wondering if I can sneak a phone call to you, wondering if I would get caught. Huh. You wouldn't answer. And even if you did, what would I say? "Hi, um, sorry I was such a bitch to you, but if I didn't do that, I'd get too attached to you, and I'd love you even more when I don't want to?" Yeah, right. Then you'd hang up, and I'd feel even more awful.

I bet now you're wondering why I'm even writing this. Or at least what drug I'm on while I write it. well, I'm not on anything, and, truth be told, I'm lonely. I miss talking to you, miss you telling me that I'm pretty, miss...everything. And I'm hoping that by writing this, I can force myself to push you out of my mind. Crazy, huh?

Well, there you go. My life on one little piece of paper. You think I'm tough? You think I don't miss you? You think I don't cry at night thinking of you? You think I don't dream about you loving me? Well, then the mask that I wear almost everyday really is as good as everyone says. This is how I really feel. Take it, or leave it. I'll be haunted either way.

NOTE: Ok, I know this one was kinda short and kinda sad, but I needed to get this out of my system. I'm not going to say the name of the person this is about. I'll give them a little dignity. But this is a true story...thing...and really how I feel. Review this if you wish.