*For the crazy cat lady botanist that still bought me lilies.*

I step out onto the veranda, cigarette in my hand and sit myself down in the leather recliner that somehow reminds me of you.

I light my smoke and take a drag, the nicotine filling my lungs as I sigh.

It's night like tonight that I hate the most. It's nights like tonight that remind me of you. Of that night we went to the beach at sunset and how I ruined the surprise by suggesting it. How we almost missed it all together because we became so lost in each other that we lost track of time.

How I hobbled down those steep steps and how a man smiled at us knowingly as he told us the beach was all ours. How frustrating it was for us to get that stereotypically romantic shot of our legs entwined in the sand as the sun kissed the horizon. How we just couldn't quite get that shot and how I stitched two images together to make that photo a reality.

It makes me laugh how we used that image to come out, even though everyone already knew about our not-so-secret relationship and how we knew that they knew and that they probably knew that we knew that they knew... it still felt so right.

I miss that.

I miss being close to you, I miss hearing your laugh. I miss how secure and safe and warm your arms made me feel; how they always felt like home.

I miss how easily our conversations flowed and how being close to you never felt close enough. I miss how it was never awkward, and how, despite us both hating physical contact, we were always in each other's arms.

I miss how odd it was to want to be around you all the time and how I never grew tired of having you there.

I miss the promise in your eyes and how I tasted forever on your tongue, and how for the first time in forever, I could actually see a future.

I hate that I miss you. I hate that, despite everything you have done to me; I still love you. I hate that I never told you how I feel and that now I'll never get that chance.

I hate that I don't hate you.

I hate that I yearn for you, even though you don't deserve to be yearned for. I hate that you'll never know this, that you'll never hear these words, that you'll never comprehend just how much of an impact you've had on me.

I hate that just as I begin to think I've moved on, a night like tonight brings me right back. You have no right to be making me feel this way, no right to be occupying my heart like you do.

Your hold on me is toxic, but there's no cure for my affliction. You're like a drug to me, my addiction; I'm always craving a hit. I wish I could make these withdrawals disappear, banish them from my mind, but your hold on me is stronger than I realised and I'm stuck, trapped on this ride I desperately want off of.

I hate that as time goes on, the pain you inflicted lessens, but the happy memories still shine bright. I hate that I go to bed each night wishing you were by my side, that stupid dog trying to get between us...

I miss you and I hate it.

I sigh again, wiping the unwelcome tears from my face, the ever-present loneliness aching in my gut.

A car drives past and my ears prick up, my head whips around, and just for a second, I hold my breath, only to sigh again in disappointment, because of course it's not you. It will never be you.

You don't want me, don't need me like I need you. Your heart doesn't ache in the way mine does, doesn't long to hold me in your arms.

It's not you that looks for me on every corner, you don't see me in everyone you meet, and I guess that's something I need to accept, though, I have no idea how.

I try to remind myself of your flaws, of the heartache and pain you've caused, but then I see your face behind my eyes and suddenly, I'm smiling again, missing you more than ever.

I've never been good at holding grudges or blocking people out, that's always been your domain. It kills me how you view me as something so easily disposed of, how you reduced my worth to that of a toy for your own sexual gratification. It hurts me even more that I cant find it within myself to hate you for that.

I wish I could stay mad at you, but anger has never been an emotion I've been particularly good at. You've caused me so much pain and anguish, you kicked me when I was already down, so why do I still love you? Why do I still mourn the loss of you? Why do I still care?

I sob into my hands, the crushing pressure on my chest makes me gasp; when will this ever end? When will I move on? How do I move on?

I extinguish my smoke, wiping my face as I trudge back inside, those tears still flowing down my cheeks.

My bed feels awfully empty without you in it, too big for just me. My sheets still smell like you and I hug my pillow tight, in the hope it brings me some semblance of comfort.

It never does.

I close my eyes and an image of you appears. Your long blonde hair cascades down your back like a golden waterfall, your blue eyes shining brightly at me as you smile. You look at me with such affection as you kiss me softly, whispering a sweet 'goodnight' against my lips.

That ache never lessens.

*This was supposed to make me feel better, getting this off my chest...
It hasn't worked.