It’s been four days. Four days since I saw what he wrote on her Facebook. Four days since I called him and said goodbye. Four days.


It’s been a long four days. Some of those four days I’ve almost called him. I’ve been so upset by something, or overwhelmed by homework. Right now it is raining and thundering outside. I hate thunder. This is one of those times I want to call him. Hearing his voice made anything and everything okay. When I’ve been upset these last four days, or freaking about how much homework I have to do, it’s his voice in my heard, saying my name three times to stop me from rambling, and then, “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” The worst thing of all is that thinking that calms me down.


The nights are the worst. I can get through an entire day, thinking, “Okay, I’m finally over him.” But at night we used to text and talk on the phone. It hurts when I almost text him and say goodnight. It hurts when a friend texts me late at night, because sometimes I almost think it’s him.


I obliviously miss him. I’m moving on though. What he and I called love was just teenage infatuation, I tell myself. How could it have been anything more? If it had been love, he wouldn’t have cheated on me. Real love is permanent; it can’t be turned off with a switch. Maybe that means I really did love him, because I sure am having trouble turning these feelings off.