It can’t all have been bad, or I’d have walked away sooner. You’re just like Adam, you know? Except with more frequent sex. You were both laugh out loud funny, easy to be around, quick to sweep your blow ups under the rug and trick me into a better mood.
And just like with Adam, everything with you was an adventure. The most routine, mundane bullshit became an event, and a good time was guaranteed.
And just like Adam, you know how to make people feel good. When you want them to. When you weren’t a giant prick, your presence was comforting. And I do miss you.
In fact, I crave you more than the drugs my body is addicted to. I want you here, so badly. I want you to wall with me to HEB for clothes hangers and coconut oil and spend way too damn much money on the food you’ll make me buy. I want to snuggle up against that bare chest that was softer than any pillow. I want you to pester me into having the most mind blowing sex I’ve ever had in my life, and then slice up a watermelon while you crack Dad jokes from the kitchen.
If you could be the person you think you are, I’d want you. I want that person so much I married him once. It’s a goddamned shame he only half exists. Flip the coin again, and he’s gone. Why’s he always gotta be a narcissist?