• Sometimes 

• What I Miss 

• Why Missing Him Is the Worst

Sometimes

Sometimes, when something funny, weird, sad or wonderful happens.. D.B. pops in my head. I want to tell him all about it. He never let us have open and lighthearted conversations about the beautifully mundane happenings of every day life.  

When I love someone I want to share everything with them. To me your partner is supposed to become a new best friend.. I was always waiting on mine to be available to me— he never was.
 

He shared believable explanations for why he was so distant. His stories left me constantly worried, because he always claimed to be struggling. I accepted he had issues to work through. However, no matter how much I cared or thought I understood, being with him was a miserable time for me.
  

Missing him is what I did more of than anything else throughout the entire relationship. You would think that missing him that whole time would make missing him now easier. I would think I'd be used to it by now.
 

I would think that knowing he abused me and never cared would mean I'd be able to stop missing him altogether. I shouldn't miss him. Nevertheless, I do miss him- In a way that I know I shouldn't..  and that I won't always.
 

I was always worrying about him, and waiting for the better he swore was right around the corner. In a way, I miss him because I always missed him. I miss who and what I thought I was waiting for. I miss the hope.
 

I miss the little moments when everything felt ok. I miss being in his company. I miss those moments I saw him in person and the energy between us felt damn near magical..and I miss believing that I wasn't the only one who felt it. I miss how it felt to miss him and still think he was someone worth missing.
 

Back when we were together, no matter how much I missed him or how much pain I was in, as soon as I was next to him everything fell right back into place. Order would be restored to my universe as soon as he'd smile at me and take my hand again. I kept foolishly thinking what those moments rearranged in my world would remain correctly aligned. 

He was my partner. I had a life before him, but then he became who I wanted to get through life with and for. I miss the lie I bought into.
 

I miss his face. 

I miss snuggling next to him in his bed as he'd scroll through Netflix and watch way too many previews. 

I miss listening to his opinions. 

I miss laughing with him. 

I miss hearing him sing along to Britney Spears, and I miss how he knew all of the words. 

I miss his old dog, and the goofy ways he stopped her from chewing on her paws. 

I miss his stupid Jeep we made out in like some impulsive teenagers. 

I miss his repetitive outfits. I miss his OCD way of cutting and fixing his shoe laces. 

I miss his silly animal print blanket. I miss his messy room. 

I miss his obsession with Skittles, Mountain Dew and Extra gum. 

I miss how he spoke about his face when he did or didn't shave, as if I would ever like looking at it any less.

I miss him asking me what color things were. I miss when I’d forget he was colorblind and I’d ask a stupid question. Just like I miss when I’d try to whisper into the very ear he’d already told me he could barely hear out of. 

I miss when he'd get too loud during family game nights and make everyone laugh. 

I miss him opening my doors and fixing my plate; and I miss how thankful I was because no man had ever done those little things for me before. 

I miss his beautiful, kind mother. I miss the tattoos that I initially found off-putting. 

I miss his bad posture and exaggerated facial expressions. 

I miss his manic energy when he’d get passionate about one of his speeches. 

I miss him thinking he was speaking quietly when he wasn’t being quiet at all.  

I miss the way his eyes always looked when he'd start getting really sleepy. 

I miss the little strut he had whenever he was feeling proud. 

I miss his house and the twinkly lights his mom uses to decorate. 

I miss his tiny nephew who made me handwritten invitation to a party with his toy dinosaurs. 

I miss listening to him complain about people for things that made no sense to me.(I didn't get why he was so upset, but I tried to.) 

I miss his music and observing  him change his voice and mannerisms to match each song. 

I miss his road rage. 

I miss seeing him try too hard, and I miss thinking he was perfect as is..even when he failed.  

I miss taking in the view of him and finding all of his quirks endearing. 

I miss the awkward things he'd say right after a romantic moment. 

I miss just wanting to hold him. 

I miss loving those long unexpected hugs in his driveway. 

I miss the way it felt inside my chest each time I would walk up to him, or he'd walk up to me.

I miss being certain. I miss when I didn't suspect a thing. I miss how I felt in June and the first week of July. I miss that short time frame, in which I truly believed he was it for me. 

It was in mid June that I decided I would never want anyone else..and I believed It..no- I KNEW IT. 

During the time leading up to his birthday, I thought he was my future and I wanted him more than anything. 

I miss how it felt to want to have his children. I miss how powerful the emotion was when all I wanted was to support him, and care for him for the rest of my life.  

I miss that feeling, and how shocked and elated I was to finally be experiencing it. I decided. I chose. I believed. I miss the way my heart felt then. I miss what it felt like to believe in him. I miss what it was like to look at him and see what I used to see then.

I miss thinking a relationship at this time in my life would be different. I miss believing he'd never try to hurt me. I miss being naïve enough to expect he'd never call me names, ignore me, betray or abuse me. 

I miss thinking a man who said he loved me actually meant it this time around. I miss the steadfast faith I had in him. I miss the way it felt to trust..I miss that determination and devotion that led me find Al-Anon groups and read multiple books so I could understand his issues and love him in most considerate way humanly possible. 

I miss knowing he was worth the effort and all of the pain.

 

I miss how much care I had to do so many things for the good of him, things he never knew and will never know I did..solely for him..because I loved him. 

I miss me. I miss thinking he missed me too. 

I miss feeling like it was the correct thing to do to care so deeply and donate all I had within myself to do right by him. 

I miss when I thought how hard I was trying would actually be enough, that my love would be enough for him to love me too. 

I miss how happy I felt the day before his birthday.. On that day as I put his gift together I felt so overtaken by intensely warm, positive energy. I was so happy, my mind was so certain, my heart so intoxicatingly full-I had no idea that on the following day I’d want it to stop beating. I loved him. I let my heart go. 

I miss the feeling as I took that huge leap of faith and thought he was going to catch me..or at least not assist gravity in slamming me to the ground...I miss being oblivious to his hate and inability to love. I miss missing someone who I thought was real. I miss being able to remember him without feeling so torn up and conflicted inside. 

I miss hope. 

I miss believing. 

I miss trusting. 

I miss thinking I was the luckiest woman in the world to have found what I thought I had found— him. 

I miss thinking he was it for me. I miss thinking I was it for him too .

I miss the way it felt when he'd reappear after months, when suddenly all that pain and confusion I'd been carrying would be put on pause and I could finally fall asleep easily for at least one night. 

I miss how after the illusion he created was broken, I still loved the difficult man I saw, and was foolish enough to think that meant he could still manage to see and love me too.

I miss when my biggest problem and worst pain was figuring out what I was doing wrong, and what I could do better. I miss when I thought that there was something to fix.. I miss not knowing I couldn't fix it, because 'it' was never actually there. 

I miss what it feels like to not be hated by someone I only ever loved. I miss how it was before he tore my mind, spirit and world apart.I miss not being obsessed like I am now because of what his cruelty and the shock of it did to my mind. 

I miss not feeling this much pain. I miss the hope I had that I was finally going to have a man treat me like a person..like I mattered, like my pain, needs, struggles, efforts, strengths, weaknesses, thoughts, desires and personality actually mattered...like he actually cared about ME the way I made it very clear I cared about him.

I miss thinking I could finally let my fears, doubts, and scars regarding men go. I miss thinking it was ok to finally open my heart again. I miss thinking I could take the risk and not get burned or deleted. I miss thinking he was a good person. I miss thinking that he was my person. 

I miss my heart, I want it back. I miss how it was to go months without crying before him—I miss what it was like to go at least a week.. 

I miss what it was like not having my heart and mind broken at the same time. 

I miss days that didn’t revolve around him or the deep pain he created. Thankfully, those days are slowly making a reappearance..

I miss feeling like I matter. I miss feeling beautiful, brave, hopeful and happy. I know I’ll get myself back, but I miss when I wasn’t having to search for all of the pieces. 

And when I miss him, I miss being angry.
 

Being angry is easier, maybe that's why he does it, or why he's become it.
 

Missing him makes me angry because I know it isn't even him that I am missing.. it is the story he was able to keep me entrapped in because I trusted him. I thought he was real. I miss thinking I knew what real was.
 

I get hit by memories at random, and it can be laboring to break out of the obsessive rumination that follows. Every memory is depressingly tainted by not only the relationship's demise, but also by the fact that I now know nothing within it was ever what I thought it was. 

Knowing that the man I loved so fiercely is not only gone, but that he was never actually there, intensifies the pain of every single memory. 

Moments we had together, and everything I thought was real between us, never existed. 

All of sleepless nights, the crying, the desperate longing, analyzing his insults, my effort, my forgiveness, my belief in him and us, it was all for a man who was never there, and for a relationship he was never a part of.

All that I discovered after we ended makes missing him much more complicated than it would've been if he were not the abusive, dishonest 'man' that he is. 

To miss someone I know was only pretending. To miss someone who tore me down and broke my heart. To miss the man I entrusted with my deepest aches and greatest insecurities, just to then witness him poke and prod at every single one within the moments he knew it would damage me most.  

To miss a man who had picked on me after I'd told him how I kept to myself  throughout my life because of how I'd only ever been picked on before..

To miss a man who ignored me, degraded me and spoke to me like I was less than a dog after I let him know how much it pained me to be pushed around and treated like I wasn't even a person in the past.  

To miss that kind of man, it is very complicated. 

Nothing is complicated or terribly serious to him, because he has no dimension or non-vapid interests. 

He seems to have no heart or  philosophical mind. He just hates, and goes about his destructive, selfish, wasteful existence. He makes the world a worse place than it was before he entered it.

That is all he is being, a negative force and a waste of the amazing, beautiful person he could've been.

To miss D.B. while knowing he is a such a hateful person, it makes me feel ashamed. Just like he always wanted me to. 

He makes it clear each time he leaves, that he wants me to be ashamed of the pathetic person he tells me I am. 

He makes it so clear he wants me to hurt. He wants me to feel small and to hate myself. He wants me to know that he doesn't think I am enough. He makes it clear that I do not deserve kindness, closure, honesty or anything other than his rejection and harsh scrutiny. 

So yeah, missing that cruel, heartless man is not a simple thing. It brings about shame, confusion, frustration, and exhaustion. Yet, I do still miss him...begrudgingly. But as I have already stated, it is not really him. I miss the way I felt within certain moments when I was in his company, or when I still believed.. 

Memories I have of 'us' from before July are the hardest. 

Before his birthday, I had no idea..I had absolutely no idea it was all a lie. I had no idea that he didn't care about me at all. I trusted all he had said he felt for me, all he said he wanted, and all he said he was struggling with. 

Those few months hold an abundance of emotional memory for me because I meant everything I expressed while we were together. Every heartfelt, sentimental thing I ever said to him in person or on text-I meant it, I wish I hadn't. 
 

I wish when I checked on him after class on the day this got started, he wouldn't have zoned in on me as his next victim. I wish he wouldn't have taken advantage of me, just because he could.
 

I wish he hadn't pushed me around and hurt me just because I trusted him enough to provide the intel required to crush me. I wish he were capable of processing the world in a healthy, meaningful and non-vicious manner.
 

Missing a man who is incapable of behaving like a man is the worst. 
 

Missing someone who will never have the ability to truly see or miss anyone, is the worst. 
 

All he could see about me were the things he wanted, and the weak spots he could hit to get the reaction he desired- the vulnerabilities to exploit to get my love, fear, rage..
 

To miss a man who only put effort into learning me to assess the best ways to manipulate and control my interactions with him in his favor, is the worst.
  

To know he put zero effort into caring for me or building an enduring relationship, but he chose to put plenty of effort into manipulating and attacking me-IS THE WORST. 
 

Knowing what he desired most is what he did is the worst.. because all he did was hurt me.