I Still Miss You, And That’s Okay

When I lost you, I knew it was going to take me awhile until I completely forget you. But I didn’t know it would take me this long. It took me six months’ worth of coffee in the morning and six months’ worth of tearful nights. Six months of wondering where it all went wrong; asking myself how could I have missed the target; losing my mind thinking was I ever good enough? Will I ever be?

Every day, when I pick up my guitar, all I can hear is the melody of your voice singing me to sleep at three o’clock in the morning when my anxiety won’t let me rest. Every day, when I pick up a mug of coffee, all I can picture is your lips resting on white ceramic with a tiny smirk as you savor the black coffee and tell me how you like coffee better than tea.

Every day, all I think about are the littlest things you used to do and I’m reminded how they’re not just little things to me.

Every day I remember you, I think of you, I hear you, and I see you; and each day after every day, I still miss you. Even to this day –even after ten months of that rainy night I told you I was done. So I guess I’m not completely done after all. Not even three months ago when I met him.

Three months ago, that’s after those six months of anguish, and crying myself to sleep, right? You’ve always been the one better in Mathematics and Science. You probably calculated that we wouldn’t last long and knew we didn’t have the Chemistry. My apologies, I was the artsy one. All I can see then was the galaxy in your eyes and the pigment of the paints we used to color every moment we had each other.

You’ll always be the better one in Math, the brighter one in Science. But when I met him, it didn’t matter if you were the better one at being calculative and logical. Because I realized he was the better one between the two of you.

On the seventh month, I realized I still miss you.

Not because I still felt the same way. I missed you still because I craved the idea of telling you what happened to me each day. I missed you still because you were always there to listen to me. I missed you still because you calmed me down. I missed you still because you were my best friend.

The eight month was spent comparing you to him – not him to you. Even during bad days when I see him, I picture you beside him and compare your outfit, your posture, your hand movements, your smile, your eyes, your nose, and your lips. You had manly in your outfit, he had comfort in his. You had handsome in your smile, he had charm in his. You had strength written all over your actions, he had safety in his. You had the galaxy in your eyes, he had the trees, beaches, birds in his. You had “perfect” written all over you from head to toe, but from head to toe he was perfect.

And on the ninth month, I realized I didn’t need the universe, I only needed him to be my universe.

On the tenth month, I was aware that I still missed you and I knew that was okay. Because he taught me that you were a sweet memory. The same way he taught me how to love again.