Ms. I

I miss being in recovery and being the center of attention.
I miss hating you because at least I knew how I felt.
I miss thinking I knew who I was and what the fuck was going on.
I miss being creative and the feeling of accomplishment.
I miss missing you.
I miss looking forward to our conversations.
I miss fucking.
I miss eating fast food
I miss feeling connected to more than one person at a time.
I miss reading this blog and finding more than my own words here.
I miss