Having tried to erase you
All right, I admit it. I miss you. I don't miss your loud, gravelly voice, but I do miss that husky sexiness in intimate settings. I don't miss your constant rambling & how often it centered around you, but I do miss the full disclosure, your willingness to reveal every aspect of you. I don't miss your aggression, your negativity, but I do miss your comfort with emotion, your willingness to own up to it. I miss your unabashedness. I miss your sweet thoughtfulness, the simple gestures. I miss your spontaneity. I miss your passion, your subserviance, your dominance, your explorations. I miss your hands, the creative ability they host, your tattoo. I miss your faithfulness, respect, and devotion. I miss your willingness to expand your horizons to include mine. I miss your dog. I wish you knew who you are. I almost wish you'd look for us, put forth some minute effort to contact us, to show us you do care, to prove everyone wrong, be a force to reckon with, so I don't have to keep making all these decisions about where to be. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt about all the past situations. I want to believe, but have nothing to show for it in either direction. I confess, I didn't give you much of a chance. I was too focused on you not being who I wished you were, rather than on who you are. But what is this? Am I just horny? Lonely? Or, having tried to erase you, am I now just drawing you differently? Anyway, I wish you could know, je ne te deteste pas.