Missing you was an intricate part of my lifestyle.
I spent my life missing you.
Even when we were together, I missed you.
And when you broke my heart, even though I wasn't surprised, I missed you sill.
And now, I'm not quiet sure what to do with this not missing you business.
I've finally moved on.
Finally quit that twisted addiction.
Finally.
And once in a while, I see your name or hear something you did, and I feel compelled to miss you even though I don't.
Now the vast, gaping hole in my heart where your memory used to live is smaller.
Not yet a pin prick but not still a hole.
And missing you seems like a memory too.
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