Maybe it’s having a nuclear family that I miss. She was the last one I had a nuclear family with.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s just having someone on that pillow that now sits empty next to mine every night.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s her genuine kindness she seemed to have for everyone else.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s that she did fight with me. Maybe having someone to fight with was nice once in a while.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s nothing more than a feeling of unresolved failure that makes me miss her. Maybe such failure will always taunt me, secretly whispering that I could have done it. I could have succeeded. I could have made it work.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s my need to be liked.

I don’t know.

Maybe it’s my need to prove to her that I’m not all those horrible things. I’m not a jerk. I’m not a quitter. I’m not a bad person. I’m not a bad dad. Maybe it just doesn’t sit right with me that someone who knew me so well thinks such harsh things about me.

I don’t know.

Maybe it all ended so quickly that I never got needed closure.

I don’t know.

Maybe I just want to see if she has a single kind thought to lend me.

I don’t know.

I only know that sometimes I miss her. A lot.

On my way to the gym a few weeks ago, I passed her. She was out jogging and never saw me. I hadn’t seen her in years. My heart screamed ten different things at me all at once. Some of them angry. Some happy. Some sad. Some confused. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again. And suddenly I missed her more than ever.

I pulled into my parking spot, pulled out my phone, and pulled up her number. What could it hurt? Why not see if she’d let me buy her dinner? Why not get to the bottom of why I miss her.

I never dialed her number. Instead I set my phone in my lap and stared at the picture of the devil that I had assigned to her number when she first split. Lucifer. Satan. A bright red face with horns and a pitchfork.

I thought it was funny then. Now it was pathetic, childish, and just plain mean.

Maybe, just maybe, I was more of a jerk than I thought. Maybe she was more right than I ever thought. Maybe that’s why I miss her sometimes.

I don’t know.

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

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Dan Pearce is an American-born author, app developer, photographer, and artist. This blog, Single Dad Laughing, is what he's most known for, with more than 2 million daily subscribers as of 2017. Pearce writes mostly humorous and introspective works, as well as his musings which span from fatherhood, to dating, to life, to the people and dynamics of society. Single Dad Laughing is much more than a blog. It's an incredible community of people just being real and awesome together!