We were just another love story that had a not so happy ending. You were my calm before the storm. My everything that turned to nothing.
We were inseparable from the moment we met. Something about you made me feel like I needed you in my life. And you needed me too.
There was never a dull moment between us. We always had something to say to each other. We talked about religion, love, our past, and the future we hoped for.
Our dates were always adventurous. There was nothing normal or boring about us.
And the sex? God, the sex was amazing. Mind boggling. It was passionate and rough, but loving. It was everything I needed and more.
But then you had to leave. You were moving back home. Hours and hours away.
Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, right? At least that's what I've always been told. But not in our case, not at all.
Maybe we didn't have the trust we thought we had. Maybe our communication wasn't 100%. Maybe we just weren't ever meant to be together.
We wanted to stay together. We made so many empty promises that neither one of us could keep. We had a mission. But we failed. Miserably.
I cared about you so damn much. Even with the constant bickering and nagging, I loved you so hard. I just missed you, most days I still do.
We never had the closure I so desperately needed. There were just missed calls and unanswered texts. Sleepless nights. And two angry people miles and hours apart.
Two people who loved and lost.
I wish we could go back in time. I wish we could have made it. I wish we were strong enough.
But wishes are just a dream your heart makes, and they don't always come true. And that's okay, I guess. You're okay, I think.
And me? Well, I'll get there. One day.
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