Tonight I listened to a voicemail you left me three months ago. In it, you told me to go **** myself. I still remember that night. I still remember those words rolling off your tongue so gracefully. I remember wondering how someone so beautiful could be so cruel. Two months ago I called you at 2 AM. I expected you to ignore it or send me to voicemail; those were two of the things you were best at. You answered and I felt my heart begin to race; you probably thought it was because I missed you, but honestly, I just didn't expect you to answer, and because I really had to ***. I asked you how you were and you sat there quietly and confused. It was like you forgot I existed and that I was once part of your life. You told me "fine" and I smiled. That was the last conversation we had. I made sure to let go of you, and every negative word that was said, in a peaceful way. Fast forward two months; and I still wonder how you are. I still wonder how your dog is or if you've seen any good movies lately. If you heard me say this you'd probably blush like you used to whenever I said something sweet. You'd probably think that I think these things because I still love you. But that is not the case. You see, six months ago, I was jumping through hoops trying to please you. To make sure that you were happy before myself. To make sure that I was the one causing your happiness. But it is not six months ago. It is now. And now I simply remember you as a person I gave my soul to. A person I told secrets to at 4AM and ****** to feel a sense of closeness. But it is not six months ago. It is now. And now I miss you, I miss the way you would call randomly just to see how my day was. I miss the way you seemed to care, even if you didn't. I miss the friendship and the secrets and the stories. And maybe one day things will be different. Maybe you'll call me on a Tuesday afternoon to see how my day was. These are the things I think about before my eyes slowly close and I am finally rewarded with sleep. But for right now? Go **** yourself.