Today was hard. Songs on the radio, people in love walking down the street holding hands, even the sound my phone makes when I get a message . . . it all reminded me of how things used to be. I think I’m doing fine, or decent, or at least semi-ok but all it takes is one little thing, and my breath catches in my chest, the pulse in my neck and my wrists starts jumping around and the butterflies in my stomach flutter to life.
So he’s the wrong man for me. I get that, intellectually. But I still miss him. The burst of righteous anger I managed to work up yesterday has passed, and I just feel sad and broken.
I miss being in love.