It gets to me seeing that you're better off without me. Or better yet, seeing how you're exactly the same as you were with me. It ***** how that proves that I had no impact on your happiness and that you were never mine. Thinking about how I was just "there" is a weight on my chest that I'm not strong enough to simply lift off and put down. And in my weakness all I want to do is tell you I miss you. I ******* hate that I know your response to that will be a burden on you and will only make me feel weaker for missing someone who's mind I no longer cross.

At 00:22 6 months ago I was tearing tape off your ******* and gently bruising your collarbones. At 00:22 5 months ago I didn't care about you. At 00:22 4 months ago I'd be lying in bed while we exchanged anything that was on our minds between failed playful sext attempts. At 00:22 3 months ago my lips were touching yours but you weren't mine. 2 months ago I came to the realization that you never were.

It's 00:22 and I'm being kept awake by study drugs I shouldn't be taking and instead of reading over the Berlin Blockade I'm writing about you because these memories are it. There'll never be any more of you in my life. As much as I miss you I no longer have the feeling fueled drive to make an effort, guess that's one thing we have in common now.

It's crazy how I can ignore everything that's made me happy in your absence and neglect the newcomers that have made me feel again.
But it's 00:37 and I'm looking at pictures of you and you don't look so beautiful anymore. What I once saw as flawless, followed by what I saw as flaws alone, is just another pretty face.

It's 00:58 and the weight is gone.
But 00:22 will come again.