Every time I meet someone I go back to you… I pretend I like her but I go back to you, but how could I not? You’re perfect in every way; your smile, your kindness, how you squint your eyes when you laugh, even the way you roll them when I would say something silly. Those little things make you so ever perfect in mind.

Oh but you didn’t meet her, she was also a sense of perfection. She was nice and courteous and never missed a Sunday mass; I could swear angels powered her smile. Everybody liked her and it amazed me how she loved and hated pretty much what I loved and hated myself. She was fun and spunky and she had all the right elements for the perfect companion, until you came back into my life. I understand she didn’t have your sense of security and conviction, and not many times did she ever lived up to your standards, but does that really matter?

Why is it every time she said something or did something, I had to consult you as a reference? Ask you if it was ok? I don’t think it was fair to her.

Am I asking too much? Am I going crazy?

I give enough; I think I have the right to ask for enough, right?

She never got me like you did so I had to let her go.