It's not that I don't miss you.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story is about a personal experience I experienced. I was in a relationship with a girl I deeply cared about, and this was my way of expressing my take on our relationship and everything that happened in it.

Submitted: May 06, 2015

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Submitted: May 06, 2015

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It's not that I don't miss you. It's the glimmer in your eyes when you said you loved me for the first time and the countless times after that. It's the way you held me in your arms in the early morning hours while you rested your lips against my forehead and said "I never want to let you go baby." It's the way you made me feel wanted.

 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way we would dance in our pajamas to our song. After eating a pint of ice cream together and fighting over what we wanted to watch on Netflix. It's the way we used to laugh at the stupidest things and it wouldn't matter because all that mattered was that we were together. It's the way we would play fight and you would tease me to get me riled up. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you, it's all the firsts we experienced together. It's the way you looked at me like you could see everything that was me and still wanted to be where you were. The way you sat me on your lap and wrapped your arms around my waist telling me that I was beautiful. It's the way I would be making fun of you, my eyes crying with laughter, when you would brush your fingers along my lips and tell me that as long as I was smiling, everything was right in the world. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way you used to look away because you couldn't stand the way tears rolled down my face when we were 100 miles apart and all we could do is be connected by a little screen. It's the way you whispered "I miss you babe" right before I drifted into sleep while we were on FaceTime. It's the way we would have date nights over Skype because we hadn't seen each other in months. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way you tucked your face into my neck and let the breath you were holding out slowly when I ran into your arms from the bus station. It's the way we would plan for weeks what we wanted to do when we finally could see each other. Yet we never got around to most of it because we couldn't leave the confines of each other's arms long enough to do everything. The way we counted down the days and began every morning with "34 days.. 33 days.. 32 days." It's the way you told me it would be okay with tears on your face. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the time when we were sitting on your bed listening to your favorite songs and you unwrapped your arms from around me and got up. You walked over to your dresser and picked something up in your hand. I couldn't see what it was. You just stared at me and wouldn't speak. It's the way you walked over to me & got on your knees in front of me, took my hand in yours and held it to your cheek. It's the way you whispered "forever" and placed the box in my hand. It's the way you waited for me to open up the promise ring you gave me for our anniversary. The way your eyes lit up when I responded with "and always" And the way you put the ring on me and kissed it. It's the way you tackled me to the bed and laughed like you were the luckiest girl in the world. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way where wherever you were, it felt like home. The way I felt proud to have that ring on my finger. Hoping that as the years passed it would become much more than a ring. It would become a symbol of our love and commitment. It's the way where I would want to scream to the world that you loved me and my heart was yours. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way you used to grab me and kiss me like your life depended on it. It's the way you held me for hours after making love. The way you would turn over and start kissing me in the dead of the night, and I never minded because I just wanted to feel connected to you. It's the way you reassured me that you loved me when your lips and fingers brushed against my skin.
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way the distance got to be too much. The time that we spent not talking because we had too much to do. The way I would apologize over and over again when you got upset that I didn't have much time. I was just trying to do good in school and make something of myself for our future. Its the way it didn't matter to you. It's the comments from that girl that I would see when I scrolled through your pictures to just get to see the face that I hadn't seen in weeks. It's the way you told me "It's nothing babe, you're being over dramatic." It's the fights we had when I was tired of feeling like there was more going on and you didn't seem to care anymore. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way you told me to get a grip and stop being so clingy when all I wanted was for you to tell me that it wasn't true. It's the way that I just wanted to hear "I love you" again. The way your voice sounded so cold when you said "Actually I don't love you anymore." It's the way you called me a week later begging for my forgiveness. For me to take you back. It's the way I had hoped that things would start to get better. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way I pushed everything aside and held your hand while you were sick. It's the way I slept in that hospital chair and wouldn't move from your side. The look I got from your mom because she knew what you did and I was still there. It's the way you came home from the hospital and smiled because even if I was miles away, I still had flowers waiting for you there. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way a week later my heart sank when I logged onto your Facebook to write how much I loved you, when I saw it. It's the way you said "She means nothing to me, you're my everything.", "I can't wait to get better to hold you in my arms.", "You're so beautiful." It's the way you said "I love you." when I hadn't heard it in weeks. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's what you said when I confronted you. The words still ring in my ears. It went from I don't know what you're talking about, to well if you had more time for me, it wouldn't have happened. It's the way you looked at me and said "Did you really think I loved you? Let's be real. It was never going to work. I was never in love with you, I just used you. You're nothing to me, you're ugly and no one wants you. It'll be a miracle if anyone loves you." The way you said I had brought it upon myself. It's the way I thought back to all the mean things you said to me, whether it was joking or in fights. It's the way it all didn't seem right.
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's just the tears that I cried, the pain I felt in my heart when you said you goodbye. The tears that lasted weeks. The ones that eventually just went to nights before sleep. The sobs that would wreck my chest thinking about how stupid I was to have not known. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the look of disgust you would give me when I said I didn't wanna do what you wanted. The way you would turn over and ignore me because I didn't give you your way. When you would tell me that I was lucky enough to have you and you never know when that could all go away. It's the way that I wanted you to love me so much, that I eventually gave in. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the voice in the back of my head saying that I wasn't good enough. The voice saying do everything you're against so she'll love you as much as you do her. The conscious that took a step back while I took all my dignity and placed it in your hands. The smile that was on your face when I had pleased you. It's the way I gave up everything to love you. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way my friends told me to tell you goodbye. The countless therapy sessions with ice cream and chocolate. It's the way that it hurt when I found out you had a new one two months later. It's the way that my friends could see through me when no one else could. The way my mom said "This isn't healthy mija, you need to let go." Little did she know everything we had gone through. 
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way I felt when I would think back to all the things I did for you. The way nobody but you and I knew what actually went on behind closed doors. It's the way that I see disappointed in my own eyes when I think about the person I had become when I was with you. It's the way where to this day, I still struggle with actually trusting someone because of all of the things you had done. The fact that I don't tell the whole truth when it comes to you because I can't stand the sympathy and disappointment that leaks out of people's eyes when they find out everything I had gone through.
 
It's not that I don't miss you. It's the way a year later, I found out you're engaged. It's the way I felt when I got a message from you a week ago saying "I miss you." When you then proceeded to ask me "Do you ever miss me?" 
 
So, it's not that I don't miss you. It's the way that even if I do, I'm smart enough and strong enough to not even respond to you. 


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