Steals My Heart When He Takes My Hand, And We Dance To The Rhythm Of The Band

I miss you.

I hate that everything here reminds me of things we did together. I hate that no one will let me forget you. I think of you a lot. It doesn’t bother me anymore. I wish Florida wasn’t so far away. You helped me keep a lot of my sanity here, I realized. But we weren’t attached at the hip. I liked that. I miss that. I miss that you could finish my sentences. I remember when we went to Venice…..it makes me laugh. I miss not talking to you all the time. I miss getting your advice on things. I like that you broke everybody’s expectations of you. I admired that you completely smashed through everyone’s opinions of how you should be, and didn’t give a damn what other people thought. It’s funny how when I’m in a certain place, I keep getting this feeling like you’re sitting next to me. But you’re not. Part of you is still here, with me, I think. That doesn’t bother me anymore, either. It helps keep me sane a lot of the time. A bit.

I miss you.