I miss him. I miss him so **** much that it actually hurts. But that's the problem. I miss the him I fell in love with. The one who stroked my hair and brought me roses, because he knew me so well. The him that didn't mute his phone when he went to sleep just in case I needed something. The him that looked at the stars with me and told me I was prettier than them all. But he's not him anymore. Because my him was never distant or cold. He wouldn't kiss a girl with ***** soaked lips two hours after he swore up and down he would never want anyone else. He wouldn't be able to tell me I didn't matter to him. He would still love me.