I woke up early this morning, still dressed in last nights clothes, smelling of cigarette smoke. That smell is so easily woven into everything. It was tangled in my hair and faintly on the pillow cases and sheets. The pain hit me so quickly, my first reaction was "oh dear God, please not this again. I cannot have a panic attack now. I need to go to work today." But it wasn't that. I calmed myself down enough to realize that the pain wasn't anything physically wrong with me. It was the fact that I missed you.

For the first time in a long time, I thought about you. I thought about the time we spent together. As I sat in my bed this morning, I felt my heart break all over again for all that was lost between us.

I wish it would be easy for me to sit here and write about how I hate you. But I can't do that. For the shear fact that you know me too well. You know that I don't believe in hating people. I just can't see the point in it. But the truth is you did hurt me. But you already know that, too.

When people asked me how we met, most of them didn't believe me. Others told me I was stupid for ever getting mixed up with you. You didn't match the stereotype they all had in mind for me. You weren't dedicated to school and you stayed out late most nights. I was a wanna-be straight A student, who cared far too much about what others thought of me. You smelled like cigarettes and perpetually had car grease on your clothes, but none of that mattered to me. For the first time, I didn't care what anyone else thought, because you made me happy. You gave the best hugs and always let me steal the blankets

What you may not know is that despite the "crash and burn" period at the end, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. And I think that instead of pointing out how you hurt me, I need to focus on these good things. At the end of the day, the good things are what mattered most. You were my best friend. You made me laugh at all the stupid things in life. You called me at 2am. just to tell me some ridiculous story you just thought of. You were my lifeline when I felt like I had none. And even when we fought, I still knew you loved me. I miss that. I miss knowing that you cared as much as I did. When we said our goodbyes, you promised that you'd always love me, but I don't think you understood what that promise meant. I think it was a bigger promise than you ever intended it to be.

The truth is I still miss you and a part of me probably always will. But I refuse to let this spiral out of control again. I can't go back down this path. So for now, I'll wash that smell from my hair, my clothes, and my sheets. Maybe one day I'll be able to wash it from my heart.