For some odd reason I miss you today.
I would like a hug.
I still love you.
It made me sick yesterday to have sit at the stop light next to you. That was excrutiatingly awkward.
Every time I see you, your name, or think of you that pit in my stomach opens up and attempts to swallow everything around it.
I'm pretty sure you never read this. If you do, just know this is still hard for me.
I just saw you walk by. You always walk so fast.
I wish you didn't have to hate me. I wish I could talk to you about this. I wish I could explain these things to you so you would be able to understand.
I miss you. God you're an asshole.
What's hilariously ironic and fitting is that I chose to end this. I chose to "abort the mission". I chose to not be with you because I felt suffocated and backed into a corner. I was scared about your expectations of me with your son. I was scared of my expectations for you.
I wish Fish wasn't pregnant. What a constant reminder, huh? It's hard for me and I rarely see her, it must be really painful for you since you sit right next to her.
I broke down on Sunday after my run with George. I killed my own kid, you know? I don't think I'll be able to remember what kind of horrid selfishness served as the catalyst for that poor decision... I am full of regret. I am full of guilt. I am full of sadness.
You just walked by again.
I wish I could run after you.
