Nate was sick on Saturday and I was playing badminton, so we didn't get to talk until after dark.
I got close to having a breakdown of tears because my dad was watching a Hollywood love movie and it reminded me of all the stupid Hollywood things I dreamed Nate would do.
I was crying and hyperventilating on the floor of my room because of all the heartache.
I asked him to help me calm down, so Nate told me a story about us getting married and told what a typical day would be like for us.
The story was meant to help be feel happier, but it just reminded me of all I'd lost. And of all I'd been missing.
I missed his touches and kisses and hugs and warmth and kindness and his loving stare into my eyes and his ability to always keep me happy and his personality and his humor and holding his hands and sitting in his lap and his surprise hugs from behind and his kisses on my forehead. I missed the love we shared.
I missed the time before rules.
The time before we broke up.
The time I was his and he was mine.
But I'd lost it.
And I lost hope of it coming back.
So I had breakdowns over and over all night.
