It really is funny how fate plays a practical joke sometimes. Don't you just hate it when someone (who loved, hurt and left you) from your past has practically died in your book and suddenly gets resurrected?
The fact that I'm still glad to hear from you makes everything worse. Why am I even talking to you when three Christmases ago, your special present for me was a river of my own tears coupled with pain and sadness? Do you even know the kind of devastation I was when you left?
A part of me wants to raise numerous unanswered questions but another wants to just forget and start anew.
You tell me you miss me and I believe you. I miss you too. But what now?
