Regular readers to my blog would know that I split with my ex, C, about a month ago. We had been having problems and arguing for quite a while, to the point that I moved out. We were going to try doing the whole “space” thing, it failed, we ended it for good.
Since then I've done the whole rebuilding thing. I live in a house with an amazing housemate, her kids (they're only there 4 days out of 7), and our two dogs. I have a place where I can come home to pure silence, where I can de-stress and recuperate before the stresses of the following day. It's fair to say I couldn't be any more thrilled with where I live.
I've been through the mourning period of my breakup. I've been through the phase of uncontrollable tears and the “I don't care if I get hit by a bus” moments. I'm at a point now where my life is happy, I enjoy time with my friends and I'm focused on myself and the things that I want to achieve. I'm in a good place.
Yet I can't stop thinking about him. I miss him so very much.
It's not that I want someone to hug me, or kiss me, or be intimate with. I don't need someone to just be there, I'm happy and quite content being alone. I've had quite clear signs from someone else that they would like to hook up, and reminders “we should catch up”. I know I would just have to say when and I would have another another friends with benefits. But that's not what I want. That's not what I miss.
I quite literally miss him.