Better. Slightly. 

I find that it comes in waves.

You do everything to get your mind off of it, but it’s always lurking there in the back, a weight on your shoulders, the missing piece, the unshed tears, the betrayal, your best friend, not there.

I just want him to miss me, enough to do something about it. Tell me. Write to me. Come to me.
Is that too much to ask?