I always found so much comfort in your voice. It was the most beautiful noise I've still ever heard, and I find myself searching for it in crowded bars (even thought I know you won't be there). I miss your eyes and all the late nights we would spend in silence, just locked in our embrace with our foreheads against each others. In those moments, I felt like I could read your soul like a book. Physically and emotionally, you were beautiful and electrifying.

But this is not a love note, and you were not truly beautiful. You are a dangerous person, as your beauty was false and underneath you are incredibly ugly. Your cruelness still hurts even though we haven't spoken in months- I doubt I'll ever fully heal from you.

Out of all the ways you hurt me, it angers me the most that I still miss you some nights. I don't miss the way you mocked me for the scars on my arm, but I do miss our late nights on my porch as you told me how scared this world makes you. I don't miss the way you would bitterly laugh over me as I laid on the floor having a panic attack as you would use your infidelities as knives, but I will miss the way your arms searched for me in your sleep.

I guess what I'm saying is that I miss the person I thought you were.