I think about you everyday. It’s been a year and I think about you everyday. I’m always so tempted to call, or to text, or something. Anything. I feel like I’ve lost part of me. Some days I wake up so angry I can’t think and some days I wake up so broken I can barely breathe. I wish you would just come see me. You could, you know. You could and I wouldn’t be mad. Because it’s been a year and I thought I needed less of you but apparently less just means that there’s less of me. I’m sorry and I know you are too. So just find me, please. Find your way back to me.