So break ups are hard.
But no I’m not crying over the fact that for the last two weeks you’ve made my life hell. I’m not crying because you didn’t congratulate me on my biggest achievement to date. I’m not even crying because you’re gone, no longer mine.
I’m crying over the time you grabbed my boobs at work. The time we took your nephew to the falconry centre. The times we go out for drinks with your friends. Summer barbecues. The gigs we’ve been to and hotels we’ve stayed in. The times you’ve made me smile. The time you asked me out. The times you’ve told me I looked nice. The times you’ve encouraged me and had faith in me.
Truth is, I’m crying over a huge amount of ‘things’ . And to many, they mean nothing, just gibberish. But those ‘things’ have made up the last year and 7 months of my life, and I’ not sure what I’ll do now they will be gone. I’ll miss your family, your friends, dinner times, parties, get togethers we’ve had. Miss waking up in your bed. Miss your scent. Your arms. Your face, your hair, the sex.
God I’m going to miss you so fucking much it’s going to hurt like a bitch, and take longer to heal than a 10 year coma. But I’m going to have to come through the other side. Somehow, because let’s face it, I’ve wasted the last year and a half of my life waiting for you, and now you’re gone, I can’t waste anymore time.
I really really loved you. Well I still do. You were always my favourite. So this will take a while, even though, you’ll forget me in a week no doubt.
But I guess however anyone feels and whichever way it’s looked at, we’re over.