There was something about the way he laughed. He laughed so genuinely, like he really found what ever it was amusing. Not the kind of laugh you force out of politeness but a laugh that puts you at ease and makes you want to laugh right along with him. And when he laughed you could see it all over his face, not just his smile.  He would tilt his chin down into himself just the slightest bit, reminding me of how a little child would laugh.  Maybe this is a part of him that he kept from when he was younger, that he refused to change about himself.  Not that anyone would want to change it.
    I’m sitting here writing about his laugh and I find myself trying to suppress a smile.  I don’t know why.  Something so pure and good is making me feel bitter.  I do know why.  I resent him for what he did.  Especially because he never felt sorry about it, or he never expressed it if he did. I’ve tried to bring myself to hate him several times over the last couple of years and I fail every time.  I just can’t bring myself to it. So it really hurts when all I can do is miss him and all he does is forget we existed. Some hurt heals with time, so my mom and everyone else says.  But some hurt just never goes away.  This isn’t the type of hurt where it will only be healed if we’re together again.  I know that won’t happen.  I know he won’t do it.  I just want to know that he remembers everything I’ll never forget and thinks about me at least once for the thousand times I think about him. That’s all I need.  And probably all I’ll never get.