Sometimes I think about all the things I've missed because of him. Other times I think about all the things I enjoyed because of him. Sometimes I just wish I knew what it all meant. What's the purpose? Why did I suffer like that? Why do I miss him every day? Why can I not move on?
I think I'm just tired. Hating him is exhausting. Missing him is exhausting. Loving him is just the way that it is.
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