Missing Him More Than Loving Him Less

I remember the late night vibrating,
of my cell on the pillow next to me.
And, bleary eyed, picking up with a smile,
just to hear him say "Hey. How's it going?"
Hearing him say, "I almost forgot,"
but knowing he didn't.
I remember skipping classes,
just to drive out to Mastic.
Lounging in the car as I waited,
I was always waiting, for him outside his school.
And those little butterfly kisses,
on cheeks, forheads, lips.
I remember those the most,
especially when they turned heated.
I remember hearing him say "Babe,
and his cute little smiles and touches.
I remember the way it shattered my heart,
when he said this wasn't working.
I remember that night on the beach,
where I gave him my heart, my world,
and his promise not to break it.
I remember how he shattered me.

If he wasn't worth it.
then why do I cry?
So what if he wasn't perfect,
his imperfections made it worth the time.
He wasn't good enough.
So then what's good and what's bad?
And it's because I'm not hating him,
I'm still missing him instead.