It’s me again. I thought that I was past the stage of writing here, but I’ve caught myself by surprise. The last two weeks have been great. At a time when I could have been at my lowest, people have told me I’m doing a good job. For once, I believe them. At least I’m doing something right. It’s been over a month now since the end, and longer since the doubt started. I’ve never been so volatile, and while the worst has passed, I’m not out the woods yet.

We’ve stopped talking now. As ever, I thought I’d finally lost feelings. Finally was ready to move on. I think I genuinely believed that, else how could I have snapped. But today, they’re as strong as ever. I yearn for him to come back to me, and to tell me he’s missed me and he wants me to hold him once again. I love him dearly and I want to hold him in my arms. I know he never will, and I know he doesn’t want me. But I still long for him. I want to hold him in silence. To kiss his forehead like I always used to. To have him tell me he loves me. To stare at him as he slept and feel the love in my chest once again. I miss loving him.

I can’t tell anyone. I’m just the psycho that can’t get over him. I don’t even want to tell my friends. It’s past the point where it’s acceptable. But I feel like a part of me is missing every day. I think about him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I dream of the impossible. I just want him to come back to me, and the weight is crushing me.

It hits like a wave of bricks when I’m not expecting it. Tears find their way out at the most random of times. Maybe it isn’t a good idea to try and move on. What if I can’t fall in love with the next boy, because I haven’t fallen out of love with this one. He means so much to me, and I mean nothing to him.

I blame myself. I should have loved him then as I do now. I should have made him feel special, told him I loved him. Been the man of his dreams he wanted me to be. I’ll never know why he fell out of love, but I know one thing for sure. I loved him, and I never knew how much until he was gone.

It hurts so badly. To look over and see my friends and their relationships. “I want you to come and cuddle me” on a phone screen. I smile, and look away. I can’t let anyone see how I feel on the inside. I think of him straight away. How sad is that. All I want is to cuddle him. For him to fall asleep holding me in his arms.

Looking at our time together I miss the little things. When he cooked. His forehead. Our chats. The feeling I got when he sent the emoji. Feelings he never knew I felt.

I know I tell my friends it gets better and they can move forward. Where’s my getting better? If I told anyone how I really felt, they would think I was desperate or stupid. If I was desperate I would talk to him, but instead I stay silent.

All the things I wanted to do in recent weeks have passed. Fleeting moments of excitement. I don’t know how long these feelings will last. I don’t even know how long it’s been since we stopped talking.

As I type this my mind races over the last day I felt loved by him. Maybe I never deserved him. Maybe he was always out my league. Maybe I was never good enough. He was more confident, more social, more attractive. I tried my best, but it wasn’t good enough. I loved him. I still love him. He won’t ever read this, and he’ll never know this. Even if he did, it wouldn’t change anything. This isn’t a movie. There is no happy ending to this story. He’s moved on.

I miss you x