I do not miss you.
Not really.
I think, rather, I miss the
Idea of you.
I miss the nights we never got together and
The things we never got to share.
I miss thinking that I could share these
Little things with you later,
That I could save away anecdotes to
Make me more interesting to you.
Because I don't miss you, not really.
I miss the possibility of you.
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