I keep thinking that I’m getting better, that I don’t miss the sound of your breath or the feeling of your shoulder blades under my fingers or my feet on top of yours, dancing around the living room- and then, out of nowhere I’ll remember it’s been over a year now since you’ve been mine and over a year of being someone else’s and I’ll think of August and your bitter words against my tongue, and the words I never thought I’d hear you say: “I don’t want you” and then I’ll picture your lips against hers and I’ll miss you again and I’ll wish that you were next to me, and that we could just pretend that the past year never happened, and that I could love you better than I ever have before and what kind of twisted logic is that? I want to scream at the universe, and ask it why, God, why do I still miss you?
you’re like a cold that never goes away / a.m.t (via sweet-red-wine)
