It's been the better part of a year. You would think, by now, I'd be over it. No, you'd think wrong. I wish I didn't work with him. That would make life so much easier.
Days can go by, I'll see him, talk to him, and I'm fine.
And then just one time, for whatever reason, I'll look at him and this wave of sad lonely unhappy misery descends over
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There's nothing wrong with you at all. Sadly, you're normal on this one. Being able to regret the loss of it is just your psyche's way of saying you're over the hatey stabby part of it, and this is a reasonably normal part of grieving the loss of that potential.
I'll be thinking about you, and light a candle for your happy.
Much love,
Rowan
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