The Missing.

For now, we can call him O'. O' is an ex. He lived in another city. O', till now is one of my favourite people...even though he hurt me, and he left me. I miss him. I miss him because he never pretended to be anything, he never claimed to be anything. He knows exactly what he is, and it's true. He is what he is.
I miss him because after that, there have been placed a big chunck of pretense in my life that is now unremovable. A chunck of cliches, extreme emotions that make me miss him being so cynical and satirical all the time. He was one of the first people to acknowledge me as a person. To tell me that I make a difference in someone's life.
I don't know if I ever loved him, but I miss him.