I heard that you missed me.
That's hilarious.
Because you're the one who broke up with me.
What's even more hysterical was my reaction.
My mood shifted.
For a few seconds, my heart lifted.
Maybe I was secretly hoping you'd miss me- that you'd miss us.
But I can't.
I can't miss us.
I can't miss the continuous nights of tears.
I can't miss hiding that I was okay.
I can't miss the long summer days waiting for you to reply.
I can't miss the pain that you put me through.
I can't miss us.
I can't miss you.
YOU ARE READING
The First
Short Story"I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say." ~Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca You were the first one. And no matter how hard I try, I can never forget.
