A dream. 

I had a dream about you last night. 

I’d broken into your house for some reason and you found me there on the floor of your room, next to your bed. I guess I wanted to be near you but didn’t want you to know. As if somehow you wouldn’t notice me by your bed. 

You didn’t ask me why I was there or cuss and ask me to leave. I think you saw the wounded look in my eyes and you were glad I was there. 

I think about you almost everyday and I miss you, terribly. I know we weren’t right together, but fucking hell I loved you. 

I am happy with my boyfriend. I truly believe he’s who I’ll be with when I’m old and grey. he’s wonderful and we’re a fantastic team. I feel safe and cherished and I’m more honest with him than anyone I’ve ever known. But I can’t tell him I miss you and I can’t tell him my heart hurts because I’m getting over you. 

I have to do this on my own and I’m struggling. I wonder if you think of me, at all. 

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