Envy.
It isn't the typical jealously.
Nor is it the paranoia that you might still like them.
I'm envious of each and everyone of them.
Whether or not it might be a fling or a year-long relationship.
Or they means anything to you now.
It is because you've spent considerable effort on them.
Sweet words, kisses, cuddles.
You've held another with spoken words of endearment.
And love.
Similar
To mine.
They each have a piece of you to themselves.
How you laughed, what you said, the way you styled your hair.
Stuff that I'll never know, nor have to myself.
Sometimes I wished I knew you when we were still little.
Then we wouldn't miss out much on each other.
How you were.
Are.
And to be.
stolen from a long lost friend.
