I Texted My Ex
I Couldn’t Help It
Had a can of worms in my pocket. It started getting warm, wiggly, antsy. It had been eight months. I wanted to open it. To let the love out.
But the worms — the worms — I was worried about them.
Yet my heart said, “You love him, you miss him. He kisses the best. His tallness, curly hair, sparkly eyes, perfect lips . . . You miss him. He misses you, too. Did you read…