Allison
iMessage
Sometimes, when I miss you, I try to picture you there in his place. This man who doesn’t deserve my affections.
He looks like you, but not enough. He doesn’t sound like you. He doesn’t laugh like you. And he doesn’t love like you.
Why couldn’t it have been you? Why can’t you have me like this? Where are you?
I wanted you. I wanted us.
Most moments are like this. I search for you in someone who will never be you.
And then he’ll say something, something so terribly like you, and it feels as though my heart has been ripped from my chest.
For a moment, there you are. And then you’re gone again, as quickly as you came.
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