To The Ex Who Was Genuinely A ‘Good One’


Maybe I miss the way you weighed me down in bed. Your body was like stones that kept me down. Kept me good. Maybe I miss how you stayed with me all night. You stuck around.

They never do anymore.

Maybe it was the calmness of it all. Your breathing was like the wind, the kind that shuffles your window curtains. I’d watch you sleep sometimes and I remember it being somewhat satisfying. I loved listening to your heart beating: a steady, peaceful drum. I don’t know why watching you kept me sane.

I miss never having to talk sometimes. We’d speak with our eyes, our gestures. I miss how I could easily slip my hand into yours. We didn’t have to say a word.

I hated that you were so insecure. How could you be so embarrassed of yourself? Why did you ever think that I was too good for you? You always wondered how a guy like you could ever end up with a girl like me. People stared; they asked you this all the time. I wish you knew that I just wanted to be with you. We didn’t have to care what other people thought at the time because everything else in the world didn’t matter.

It always hurt when you were gone. Every time you weren’t there felt like getting punched in the stomach. I wish I went out more often to see you: to your gigs, to watch your favorite bands, to the music festival you got me free tickets for; but I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go. We could’ve had more time together, but I had to move away.

Although we didn’t last long, it was something. It was exclusive. And during that period of time, I cherished your presence. I felt safe around you. It was home. You were brave enough to take me on dates and treat me like I was yours.

You stuck around. And I’ll never forget that. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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