I realised today that I don't think about him so much anymore.
But it isn't that I miss him any less.
It's that it hurts more than ever -- things like the fact this was the first birthday in five years when I haven't heard from him, really hurt. And so I've kind of trained myself to avoid the pain.
If I make myself not think about him, he can't hurt me. Can he?
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Some days I feel like Betty Blue. Other days it's more like Betty Boop.
