“it’s odd how i still miss him
maybe i only miss the good memories; those that would make me smile every now and then whenever i would suddenly reminisence
but what good are they if they would only hurt me in the end?
perhaps a part of me still loves him, or at least the good part of him. the ones that would constantly remind me of how he would make feel all warm and fuzzy over the thought of being able to hug and cuddle with him as soon as i go back home.
he was the only one who stayed when i was at my lowest, or at least that’s how he made it to be.
he made me believe that he was there, when he was really the one to stab me in the back and then abandoned me. he fooled me with his late night calls and millions of apologies. he lied through his teeth all because he was too afraid to face what he had done.
he broke his promises.
he became like the others.
he hurt me.” — 3 months later
