The hardest thing about losing you is that it didn’t just happen once. 

I lose you every single day we speak when I realise you are no longer mine, and the days we don’t. 

When I wake up in the morning and reach for my phone and hope to see a message that isn’t there, and when I go to sleep at night after I realise that the one person I want to talk to the most refuses to look me in the eye and has much less replied my messages. 

And I lose you in all of the moments in between, in all the hours of silence that go by where I do nothing but think of you, wanting to call you, and then don’t. 

I lose you when I watch certain films, listen to certain songs, and go to certain places that are all tainted with certain parts of you and how you make me feel. 

And I used to think I could only miss you when I was alone, but that’s not true. 

I miss you when I’m around everyone else as well. Because they are not you. 

But you’re always there…somewhere. 

I can’t not think about you. It’s only when I’m asleep that I get a break from it. 

From thinking and wanting and missing. 

But then, I wake up the following day, roll over, check my phone, see that you didn’t call and I just know I’m going to feel it all over again. 
(someday in March)

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