missing her

The thing is, I started this as a text to you, but it’s something I’d never say. I know you miss me, and I miss the idea of what I thought 'we' would be. I miss those moments of bliss where I thought ‘this is it’ and lucky I was to have found it. I hate that I still think about it, think about you. If you weren’t so damn stubborn we could be something enviable but you won’t get over your pride and I won’t sacrifice mine… So we don’t talk. We don’t do what we so desperately want to which is to just be near each other, and we find distractions through excuses and each other’s friends to fulfill the spot you left empty. At least I do, I suppose I don’t really know what you feel, or what you think. I suppose if I did I wouldn’t be saying this to you right now, I’d be laying next to you, kissing you, making love for hours and finally lay you in my arms, saying goodnight.