We sipped on whiskey and reminisced about the old days. We laughed about how drunk his grandmother got one Christmas and on our tree, breaking it in half as she hit the ground with a thud.
My eyes were fixed on his, smiling as I saw him do the same, talking about our history. He managed to summarise memories from the past nine years, somehow without leaving a stone unturned.
I missed him.
I missed this.
This had been the second time in seven months we’d met since we had called ‘time’ on our relationship. I felt as if our time apart had done us a lot of favours.
We’d managed to hash out a lot of past issues; since we’d had space, my thoughts of him had been more on what I’d missed, rather than what had irritated me previously.
I loved hearing him laugh, watching his stunning emerald eyes glint as we struggled for breath from laughing so much.
Tonight was set in stone at just how much I’d truly missed him and having him around. I felt that we’d gotten complacent with one another before, we’d taken each other for granted.
I simply hoped that in his recalled memories with that beautiful smile I loved so much, that he thought the same.
(Image via Google.)