I still miss you

I still miss you

I still miss you

Dear John,

I honestly don’t know why I’m writing to you tonight. One second I’m fully convinced I couldn’t care less if we never talked again, the next second, I want nothing more than to get back together. You know, it’s been two years and it feels like I will never not love you. Do I love you? Am I just in love with the idea of you? What do you have that’s so irresistible? So irreplaceable? Now this is fully a crazy thought that I know I’m going to regret immediately after I say this, but I need to say it anyways. I’m still in love with you. Did I fall back in love with you? Maybe I never fully let go of you? But part of me almost feels like these two years have been some twisted vacation apart, one of those stupid tests of love that only exists in movies, and soon we’ll be back together almost like we couldn’t forget where we left off. But where did we leave off? It’s literally so messy.

There’s so much you don’t know and I know I could only truly have you if you knew, but you knowing just drives you farther away. That night I took my first prelim? I got so drunk that I passed out in the lounge of my dorm in front of my RA, but I know some mystery boy kissed me at the scummy frat we were at. But I don’t remember his name, I don’t even remember what he looked like. That time I asked if we could be in an open relationship? Open wasn’t really the term. I missed you and I needed to feel the comfort I was lacking. I always pictured him as you, but I slept with Rich, probably three times. We kissed, yes. But I never let him touch me. My body, my skin, was only ever yours to touch. He never even saw me with my clothes off. All I wanted was to fall asleep in the warmth of someone so in my dreams I could think of you.

I know it’s twisted, but I’m twisted and it was I needed and I couldn’t explain it to you then and I still can’t know. The next thing, I will forever be sorry for. I didn’t mean to hurt you and honestly I regret most of it. I definitely cheated on you. And it killed me then, it’s killed me ever since, and it sure as hell is killing me now. I’m literally crying just knowing how terrible I was to you. I remember so vividly this one night. I went to stef’s room, me and you were texting, you went to bed and I said goodnight, but I was kissing him, I was in his bed, and I kissed him for a long time, long enough for you to fall asleep, have a nightmare and wake up. I got out of his bed, and got ready into the pajamas I brought; I knew I was going to sleepover. I checked my phone one last time and had gotten a text from you. You had had a nightmare. You dreamt I wasn’t sleeping by myself. I reassured you that I wasn’t, that I was fully yours, as committed as the day I saw you at the College, all the days we spent at the lake, the day you watched me graduate and move in to my dream school. And you were at peace. But in fact, you nightmare was supposed to be a sign to leave me. But you trusted me and loved me more than I ever thought possible.

Through everything with Steve that semester, I still loved you with everything I had. I didn’t love him yet, it was all lust and uncharted territory that temptation brought me to. I fucked up so bad with you, Josh. I’m so much more mature now. You’ve taught me so many lessons without even realizing. If you had just given me that chance last summer, I could’ve made it right. Part of me still feels like I can make it right. But I can’t keep breaking hearts, and regardless of what I do, what I say, what I want, I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to hurt Steve and I’m going to hurt myself. Love is pain. Goodnight, my John.


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