All the moments, I still miss you.

In the most mundane moment, I remember you. Remember what you said, what you did, and how much you used to mean to me. And if I could bring myself to admit it, how much you continue to. It may be as random as driving on the road and your voice rings in my ears. Sharing with me about your day in the way that never failed to make me smile. Telling me how you cannot wait to make plans with me, making me giddy with excitement.

I find myself smiling at something funny you said and it’s not until moments later that I realize you are no longer here. I draw in a sharp breath as the pang of nostalgia hits me hard. I shake my head as if to clear the thoughts of you away. And I tell myself not to think of the past. I’m doing fine, I’m okay without you.

In the quietest instance, I remember you. In the crack of dawn or during the deep, long night. When I think of you just because I miss you. When something amazing happens, and you are the first person I want to share the good news with. Or something devastating happens, and I long to hear your voice smoothing me and telling me that it’s all going to be okay. And then, when I remember you are no longer around and reality sinks in, I feel as though I just lost you all over again.

I blink but this time around there are no more tears. The perfect, lofty version of you starts to crack and I begin to see you for who you truly are. You are flawed just like me. You crumble easily under pressure. You are selfish, only caring about yourself and your needs. You are cold and heartless, treating love as though it is a mere protocol. I begin to understand why our ending is for the best. I begin to accept a life without you.