God, I miss him. I miss him missing me, when we hadn't seen each other for days and days. I miss soft kisses and nuzzles and I said I wasn't going to cry any more, but as the Sandman says, "the fact of his absence will hit you like a blow to the chest," and my god, it is and it has and I am.
We talked in his car until past two yesterday, and I...I understand. I do.
That's why I loved him in the first place. Because he was broken too, like me.
But he's right, we can't work - with us or with anyone else - until we stop being so broken. I miss him so much, and he just...
Fuck.
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