We know better.

It feels so good to talk to him again. Not an excited, romantic kind of talk. A normal, friendly, missing kind of talk. I miss him. Yeah, he was a great friend. My best friend. And I was treated so damn right.

But we know better. We miss the relationship. We both do. We missed the highs that came with it and even the lows. Not that we had a lot of those.

We know better than to tread backward. We know.  But knowing sometimes isn’t enough. 

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