I collect bad decisions.

I don't miss it anymore.

These last few weeks we've learned more about ourselves than we ever hoped to know. We've met the monsters that live under our skin and make our old lives seem distant like memories. Like someone we used to know once upon a time and half forgot. An uncomfortable reminder that the people we've become aren't necessarily the best people we could be.

But, darling, we get by.

You used to always tell me that talk was cheap. Or worthless, even. You told me just because I was still speaking to you didn't mean I was saying a damn thing worth hearing. I mean after all, if you can't say it in a 160 characters, it's not worth saying, baby. I thought you were something special. I was wrong.

You were just like someone I used to know. A long, long time ago.

I grew up with all of your bad intentions. I grew up wondering who I would be if I never met you. Because for certain, knowing you has changed me more than I'd like to admit. More than I would have ever wanted. I'm not the same girl you fell in love with, but I hope you're still going to love me when I'm gone.

If you ever did, that is since it's so easy to pretend to love someone these days and so much harder to actually mean it.

These will never be the mistakes worth making. Every time I think of you I turn into a different person. So much so that I haven't the slightest clue who I am anymore. And you're stuck speaking silences that have me turning my head from miles away so that even when we're not talking, we still can't empty the spaces we used to occupy in each other's minds. I swear even when I'm busy forgetting you, you're the only thing etched into the back of my eyelids every time I blink. You're everywhere even when you don't want me. You're everywhere even when I think I can get over you. And I'm still on the tip of your tongue every time you meet someone new but sweetheart, we'll never admit it.

We're avoiding the problem, and this is getting difficult.

Maybe we're just going backwards. Isn't this the same place we were years ago? Aren't we desperately trying to be someone different by being the same as we were before? Sometimes, I wonder what the most insignificant thing I've ever done is. I make my choices like they'll define me, but then three days later, I can't remember the exact shade of your eyes or what I was wearing the first time we kissed. I realize that my hair is still a complete mess, and I still can't speak about you without stuttering. And that you're still gone. That there's nothing left to say.

And after all of this, the only thing I can think about is how we're both liars, how I still want to love you, and how I really don't miss it.