I miss you
in what feels like a more
mature, grown-up way
right now.
I no longer feel the
urge
to angrily message you
or call you and
cry.
I haven't checked on you
as much,
and I kissed another boy
without comparing him
to you.
I suppose this is what
falling out of love
feels like.

I'm not quite there,
though.
Because
there are still those nights
where I become a sad,
little girl again
wishing you were holding me
and whispering things
in my ear--
things that were
supposed to
be.