I keep on thinking about my ex.
It’s strange. I really hate him and being around him in a lot of ways for a lot of things; things that he did to me, insane opinions that he holds, his general disposition. But I miss him.
I miss the really strange connection we shared, I miss singing with him, I miss watching cartoons and Doctor Who and Kitchen Nightmares with him. I miss the irritating way he would try to make me interested in whatever stupid thing he’d decided to pick up when I wasn’t around.
I miss the way he’d look at me, he was really handsome and fuzzy and every time I’d catch him I’d smile and mess with his face-fuzz.
But none of it could ever add up to how much he hurt me.
