This is a lot more difficult than I imagined it being; though I did imagine this day.
I've always wanted the best for you. But I couldn't let go of the hope that that meant me.
But it's not. It doesn't.
And in logic I knew that, I wished for that. But it's the accepting it - the seeing it in action - that lends to the trouble in my heart.
Don't get me wrong, because I am happy for you; really. I remember, once, thinking up what you needed; and it's what you have now. Yes, I am glad for you.
It's just that my selfishness imagined hot chocolate chats, and mistletoe dances, and cookie dough food fights, and now that picture is changed. She changes things a lot.
And part of me wants that. I want your happiness. I want you to have someone who will stick around; someone who will appreciate your good cooking, that side-ways grin, your ridiculous laughter and those sarcastic comments through every season.
But another part wishes you had seen that you already had that; that somebody already did -- somebody that's wishing she wasn't so damn far from you these nights.
Congratulations on finding happiness, though.
I'll find my way too, one of these days...