“How are you?”
I am not okay. I’ve never gotten better since the day you left. I still cry every night thinking about you, about us and all the what if’s and could-have-been’s. I still hurt. It still hurts. And I still miss you, and everyday I wonder if you miss me, too, or if you ever think of me for a split second. I still ache for your hand on mine, and your voice calling out my name. I still wish you would come back to me, and tell me that you’re sorry, and that you still love me. Because I am not okay, and I still love you.