New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down

I miss The Only Living Boy in New York. I miss him so much that I think he can probably feel it all the way in his city.

It has been almost two and a half months since we last spoke, and I think I'm growing less okay with it as time passes. At first, I felt the triumph of standing up for myself, and I kept myself busy with self-improvement. Now, I'm twenty pounds lighter, and I feel an empty space in my life where he used to be. I miss telling him things. I miss his opinion. I miss his sense of humor.

I don't miss feeling crushed every day that he didn't finally tell me that he broke up with his girlfriend and realized he was in love with me. I don't miss feeling misled or led on. I don't miss his indecision or being his emotional crutch.

It's not that I think I made the wrong decision in distancing myself from him. It's just that it's hard to be away from him because I really cared about him a lot, and I miss him so much more than I thought I would. I think about things like whether he misses me too.

I know that all I can do is move forward. There's very little chance that he misses me enough or cares about me in the right way to reach out to me and tell me the things I want him to say, but the only chance that that will happens is if I maintain my distance and make him come to me. I've always gone to him, and I shouldn't have made things so easy for him. I let myself get too committed to him without requiring the same commitment from him in return. I just miss him though. I wish I could talk to him again.