Because it is possible to love and hate at the same time.
And after it's over, you have nothing left but a trace of how it used to feel, and even though it was the worst feeling imaginable at times, you still kind of miss it.

He shows up when I least expect him, and he always sees me first. I'm talking to my friends and I hear an all-too-familiar voice, but it's not until I turn around that I recognize the speaker. All I can see is his eyes, but that's all that I needed to see. Big, round, hazel eyes that convey emotions that their owner would never admit to having. I instantly think of one specific instance when I looked into those eyes, passing in the hallways at school in the grade 9, that time that they looked so haunted...

And I was happy to see him, and we caught each other up on our lives. He tells me that he's changed, gone a little closer to my side of things, but he's very vague about what he means by this. My friends are looking at me like, "Why is this dork talking to you?" His friend is looking at us the same way. But it doesn't matter. After everything that we said and did to each other, this is what is left, two old friends who see each other on the average of once a year recapping the highlights since we last met. Which is how it should be.

I'm left wanting more as we're forced to say goodbye, but I guess old habits die hard.

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