A letter to the ex I can't stop thinking about.
Let’s try this again.
How’s it going? It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I know how pathetic it is to bring this shit up now, believe me. Every voice in my head has been telling me, "it’s time to move on," "forget you ever existed," and "find someone new."
But the thing is, no matter how hard I try, no matter how embarrassing it is to admit, I can’t seem to get you out of my head.
I still think about your terrible (great) taste in music, and your stupid (perfect) smile, and your shitty car (that car really was a piece of shit). When I drive through town, I still remember those sneaky parking lot make-outs, where we were too young and too happy to worry about getting caught.
I can’t listen to that song anymore. The one that was playing at Denny’s when we went to get milkshakes instead of going to class, remember?
Do you still think about it?
Oh yeah, and that $40 outfit I wore on our first date is still hanging in the back of my closet getting dusty. You said it looked so good on me, but I never wear it anymore.
I’m not trying to be some crazy ex who’s still living in the past, but sometimes I just can’t help it. I’ll close my eyes, and suddenly I’m 18 again. I don’t know anything, but it doesn’t matter because I’m with you.