I have finally admitted it this week: I miss you. I miss you. I just miss you.

I miss you as my buddy, my friend, my "go-to-guy." Mi Oso. Papa Bear. I miss feeling your heavy, warm body next to mine. Waking up next to you and either seeing your back to me (which I hated) or seeing your tired, very tired, wrinkly eyes from working all night long. Oh how I loved every piece of you.

I don't know why I miss you if you didn't love every piece of me, if you didn't and don't really miss me, and especially since you had to, just fucking had to, get a quick fix by going outside of the relationship to feel like a man. The man. The one in the driver's seat. Oh how your pride ruined it for us all. For everyone.

And yet, I miss you. You don't deserve this. I should be missing some great man, not a sheepish one.