Cinco De Mayo

I sit here in my quiet apartment, my roommates still asleep and a million thoughts race through my head as always. I look at old pictures of us, and I cry. Not because the memories are bad, the complete opposite, they are so good, and I miss them. I text him goodnight because for a brief second I feel like I'm not going to bed alone and that maybe just maybe he will be lying beside me when I wake up. I miss the tiniest things. I miss putting my hand on his thigh while we drive around in his car, I miss that so much. I miss being touched. When the person you love touches you, holds you, you feel special, you feel wanted. I miss feeling wanted. There are thousands of other guys out there that I could spend the rest of my life with and probably be happy. My grandma told me that her mother would always say a trolley car comes by every fifteen minutes, all you have to do is wait for it. I want to be happy, I want him to be happy, I just dont know what to do anymore, I dont know what else I can do, and he has already done more than enough, more than anyone else would in this situation.  I don't know why I write this blog, nobody reads it....