I miss him.
Sometimes I forget where we came from and what brought us together and I start dwelling on the current, which is never really perfect for me anyways.
He is perfect, but life isn’t. And when I choose to begin living in the present, I remind myself of how unperfect it really is. Such as the fact that my dad and I aren’t talking, such as the fact that I’m scared of taking a career risk that I’ve been preparing for for a month now, or such as the fact that my perfect man is not here next to me.
I complain about a lot of things when I’m not happy, it’s how I cope. But it’s a problem when I can’t even have a conversation with my loved ones without becoming frustrated that something small isn’t going the way I wanted it to. I miss him, and if I was next to him, instead of expressing myself in words like I always do, I could hug him, kiss him, and in an instant, all of that anxiety goes away.
If you ask me, I’d rather keep living in the future.
Notes
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