There's a place I still miss. I was happy there, for some time, and I miss it now.
What made me happy there I have elsewhere, and free from the things that made me unhappy there. And still, I miss it.
I know I shouldn't. Easily used, easily discarded, easily forgotten, easily replaced, I was little more than a puppet, and so were others I care about.
And I know I should stop picking at the scab, and let it heal. Stop looking, stop being morbidly curious about what happens on the other side, stop counting days and stop wishing I could speak with somebody rather than just be discarded like this. Take all it's taught me and use it to create something of worth. Stop hurting myself with the memories, and just be happy.
Still...