It was a Monday and I was three weeks removed from the relationship with the serial cheater I had fallen head-over-heels in love with and I was feeling good. Just in case you didn’t read my testimony about the break-up that turned into a breakthrough for me, I recommend that you check it out here before continuing.
Even though I still cried a lot, I had also made a lot of progress. I’m not going to lie. There were days I wanted to answer my ex’s phone calls so badly, even after he did me wrong. And when he had the nerve to come by my Sweet Ma’s house one afternoon looking for me, I wanted to run outside and tell him how much I missed him. But my grandmother wasn’t having that.
I had never heard this short, silver-haired woman’s voice sound so strong and convincing as when she told him (while holding a broom, mind you), “You better never come back ‘round here!”
He never came back either.
But still, my heart was completely tied to the man who shamelessly did me dirty. I missed his voice, scent, touch, and laugh.
I missed everything about him.
I missed us.