Tattle

I’m scared to tell anyone how I feel. I’m scared to tell people that I’m still missing you. 

What will they think? It’s been months. Years, even. I should be over it. I should be better by now – by anyone’s standards. And yet, late at night I still miss you. I still want to talk to you. I wish to hear your voice. Wish to read your jokes. 

Strength. I’m not a strong person. I knew I wasn’t physically strong, but I thought I was emotionally stronger than this. But, you’ve turned me into an emotional puddle. 

How did I let you someone hurt me that badly? How did I let someone get to me like this? 

L.

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