I miss our late night walks and talks of nothing and everything.
I miss our conversations that drifted off to sleep.
I miss waking up with your arm innocently belted around my waist on that tiny aged couch.
I miss the gentle way your fingers caressed my hair and hands.
I miss the way your velveteen voice whispered, "Andie," into my ruptured ears.
I miss coming home from work to discover a letter from you on my front door.
I'm so, so sorry for ruining it all.
I despise myself for it.
I wish you would write me back.
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