short stories

I don't miss him, but, what if?

I don't miss him. Really I don't. But I miss what it was, and what it could've been. I miss who he was when we were together. I miss the him that would sit on FaceTime till 3 in the morning lighting his carpet on fire. I miss the him that took care of me when I was bleeding. I moss the him that checked in on me whenever I looked off because that's who he was. That's who WE were. We took care of each other and we laughed and we OBSESSED over cats and the weeknd. We loved cream soda and blue slurpees. I don't know why I miss it again. I thought I was done with this but apparently not I guess. I miss his hugs because as much as I hate what happened and what we've become he gave good fucking hugs. And when I'm sad I can't help but wish I could have just one more. He was my whole universe. Not anymore though. I miss what it was. Not him. I just have to remember that they aren't the same anymore.
I'm going to see him soon I know it's probably a bad idea. Trust me, I know. But some part of me wants to believe we can be friends again. We can be what we were, and I know it'll never be the same again but what if we could just go back to what we were. What if we took care of eachother and we laughed. What if we obsessed over cats and the weeknd. What if we loved cream soda and blue slurpees. What if we could be who we were again. I know we can't but, what if?