I miss you so much it hurts. Life was beautiful with you, and now I feel that the colour has gone from my life. Its been 8 months, but you're just as fresh in my mind now as you were then. You told me that you don't love me anymore. I don't know why I can't make myself move on. Maybe Chbosky was on to something. Maybe we do accept the love we think we deserve. Or the un-love, I guess.