Breathing was a strange thing. You didn't think about it most of the time. It was unconscious. You just breathed.

It was only when breathing became difficult that you had to think about it.
Jessi had been breathing for nineteen years. You think she'd be good at it by now, but she spent an inordinate amount of time lately remembering to breathe.

She leaned against the glass of her window, looking out at the moon.
Yet another night she had trouble sleeping. She asked herself for the hundredth time why she let it bother her. You could bet he wasn't losing any sleep over it.
Am I the better person for still caring about him after everything that has happened? Or am I just being stupid and I should put it all behind me?
She didn't know. Furthermore, it was rather pointless to wonder as she couldn't stop caring about him. If she could, she would have by now, right? With everything she'd gone through? Everything they'd said? All the bridges they'd burned? There was no way they would ever get back together, so why did she continue to dwell on it?

She wished she had someone to text and say how lonely she was at that moment but he was the only person she'd ever had that she could call on at any time. How funny that the person she wanted to talk to was the person she needed to talk about.
How she longed to just nestle into his chest, with his arms wrapped around her, feeling safe.

Never again.