▪I sat there.
Just waiting.
Hoping to see your face again.
Smell your cologne again.
Hear your laugh again.
What's the point though?
You love her, not me.
What happened to 'us'?
Why her when I was there first?
Is it because she's prettier than I am?
Does she make you laugh more then I do?
What happened to our connection being 'stronger than James Bond and his last name'?
Is it because she doesn't need you to keep her from hurting herself?
Is she less work for you?
I miss our hugs,
Our late night conversations about anything and everything.
Our story writing,
Just for the fun of it.
I miss when it was just me and you.
You.
Your ocean blue eyes.
Your acne that you always hide, but I think is adorable.
Your stories about your dad and your friends.
Your laugh that lifts the weight off my shoulders.
The look on your face when I tell you something you find fascinating.
I love all of it.
The way your height makes you stumble and hit your head.
Your imperfections.
Your scars.
The way you add an 's' onto words that don't need them.
I love YOU.
Not your hugs and you always managing to make me smile.
I love your flaws and imperfections.
I love your personality and sense of humor.
Everything.▪
