I like to think that I'm tough, and that I'm ok with my choice, and I know that I've been happier since we stopped contact because there hasn't been the constant reminder of what hurts. I like to think that I don't miss him because I still feel wronged by a lot of things and in a lot of ways I feel like he bulldozed me every time I tried to get up from the ground.

But I'd be lying if I said I don't love him. I'd be lying if I said I don't miss him. I think about him a lot. I wonder if he thinks about me. I wonder about other women. It's easy to stick by a decision when you're still mad, but I'm not still mad.

I still think that I was right to be upset with what happened on breakin night. I still feel he put his ego and his pride before helping me out. Anyway, I don't need to go on about that stuff again.

My point was that though I was justified in my anger, and things, I should have ended that current friendship a little more tactfully. When I dropped his things off, I should have stayed to talk to him. Because then I could have ended things on an up note. That upnote would have perhaps opened the possibility of being civil to each other at some point again, after all this anger had passed. And it's passing for me.

That passage has left a space now and I see what is missing.

Anyway, I guess the meat of it is, love is still there, desire is not. And I miss him.