I’ve kind of missed you tonight. We haven’t talked in almost two months now and I like to think our memories are mostly forgotten, but you still come up from time to time. I don’t think I miss you in particular, as much as I miss the thought of you. I never knew you. You turned out to be a completely different human being than you had me tricked into thinking for several months. You lied to me, and I liked it. You lied about loving me unconditionally and about how perfect you thought I was. You didn’t speak a word of truth all of those times you told me that I was yours, only yours and that we’d be living together soon. I was fooled into thinking that you, this (perfect) person, could have really been the one I had been waiting for all my life. To believe that it was in fact possible to find a soulmate this young. So no, actually, I don’t miss you. I never loved you. I miss being lied to. I loved the false version of you, that's made a home inside the shell of a broken, cold hearted, person. I couldn’t fix you, I don’t think you’re even capable of fixing yourself.