Stockholm.

I miss you, and I know I shouldn't, but I do.

I miss how you made me feel important. I miss hearing every detail of your life. I miss riding around in your car with you. I miss helping you through things. I miss being able to tell you everything. I miss our constant texts.

Even though I shouldn't.

You made me feel important to keep me around because standing next to me made you look better. Your life was so dramatic and stressful. You were reckless, and rarely concerned with how your actions impacted others. You'd yell at me and cuss while I was having panic attacks. I did tell you everything, but you never cared, and never listened. Everything was always about you. You just used me.

I'm the one that gave so much of myself to help you, to make you smile, to be there for you. I spent countless nights and phone calls listening to you, to your problems, just being there. When you wanted me to, I offered advice, and the rest of the time, I sat beside you, held your hand, and let you work through it yourself.

I finally got sick of it and walked away because I deserve better, and I know that.

So how is it that I'm stuck here, missing you?

It isn't fair...and I want to be done with it, I just don't know how.

I just don't know what to do.