Thought Catalog


It’s three in the morning and I should have left hours ago. We are standing outside and it is noticeably cold. It is the end of September, the first night when summer officially becomes fall, and I am dressed like it’s still July.

And “I miss you” — is that only appropriate to someone who has left, someone you imagine will come back or at least longs to do so? What about the people who have never fully entered our lives, who have passed by it like a shiny car driving just slowly enough to get a glimpse at the people inside?