I know we parted on good terms and I know what we had was real. The timing or the distance or the circumstance just wasn't quite right. We had too much on both of our plates and we didn't know if we could handle this - whatever this was.
I understand perfectly why we had to part.
But sometimes, when the night is too dark and the moon too little, I feel the creep of doubt inch deeper and deeper. Getting under my nails, my skin, piercing my heart just enough to make breathing uncomfortable.
It's been torture lying to myself all this time, saying I only miss you a little, when I miss you more than I could bare. More than I've ever known. And more than I knew was possible.
I'm not asking for you to come back to me. I know it won't be the same. But sometimes, I just want you to call me to ask if I'm okay. If I'm holding up like I said I would. Maybe even talk about what's been going on in our lives.
Just for a while, act like the friends we said we would be.