I find myself thinking about you sometimes. It’s weird, like I’m not sure I should allow myself to. We were never anything particularly special. You weren’t ever going to introduce me to your mother. I wasn’t going to stay up late at night daydreaming about our future.
We always knew what we were to each other: a fling with an expiration date.
But still, I can’t help from wondering how you are. I think about your job and how you were unhappy with it the last time we spoke. I wonder if you’re still there or if you’ve found something more fulfilling. I think about your roommate and his girlfriend and hope they’re still together.
I used to think you only missed the people who left craters in your heart. The epic romances. The Big Loves. The heartbreakers. The ones who took your trust and left it shattered in pieces all over the floor.
But what about the person you never loved? Can you miss them?
And then, I’m sitting at a bar with my friend and that song you introduced me to starts playing. I want to text you. I want to see how you’re doing and if you’re okay. I feel this thing, this thing that has normally been reserved for people I imagined forever with.
I miss you.
You can miss someone who was just in your life for a short period of time. You can miss someone who never broke your heart. You can miss someone who was only meant to be a passing figure.
Not everything has to be so grand and dramatic. You can be nostalgic for people who weren’t meant to be the story you tell your grandkids one day. Everyone we meet leaves some sort of an indent, some sort of memory that surfaces from time to time.
I was never in love with you. I wasn’t even close. But on nights when I’m by myself and someone says your name, I think about how much I miss you. I miss your laugh and perspective. I miss your advice and hands. I miss there being a place for you in my life.
You were important to me, you know? Even if it wasn’t love. Even if we were always just temporary.