Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

I admit it. I still think about Heart, on occasion. Rarely, really. I don't think I miss him. Or at least miss miss him. I miss moments I had with him, sure, but not him, as a person. As I'm going about my life, things don't pop into my head about how sweet he was (and he could be sweet--not often, but he could) or how he always thought he was helping me better myself (when in reality, it was just constant criticism). The things that pop to mind are the things that should have served as bright pink flashing lights that something was amiss.

Take, for example, this little tidbit.

Once upon a time, somewhat early in the relationship, we were talking online and he was telling me how I was doing something incorrectly. Incorrectly, according to him, that is. His exact words were "You're going about things the wrong way," which prompted me to reply:

You shut your mouth
how can you say
I go about things the wrong way?
I am human and I need to be loved,
just like everybody else does.

To which he replied "whatever" and changed the subject.

I mean, if he doesn't get the Smiths, why did I ever think he would get me?