My hands hurt from gripping my phone so hard. I saw what you posted on your Instagram story today. You're out with your ex. It took every bone in my body not to reply to that post. The urge to text you and tell you how much a fucking hate you for shoving him in my face grew by the second. But I hate lying to you. Me saying I hate you would be a lie. I don't hate you. I want to hate you. I want to hate you so bad.
Since when is a broken heart so damn romantic? Why am I hitting this damn wall over and over again to the point where I can't feel my hands. Why am I so angry at you from being better than me? Why are you with your ex? Is he better than me? Did you guys go through this? Was that to make me hate you because it didn't work.
It didn't work. I miss you. No you don't. No I don't. I do not miss you! I don't miss your kisses or your hugs! I don't miss your laugh! I don't miss your curly hair! I don't miss our long conversations over the phone! I do not miss you! I don't miss you showing me vines at 2 in the morning. I don't miss you asking me to go get your tampons. I don't miss you stealing all the covers from me. I don't miss you skipping my favorite songs when you had the aux cord. I do not miss you.
Yes you do.
Yes I do.
-they say it takes 21 days to break a habit
