You won’t miss them loudly. You will miss them in the details; you will miss them in the quiet. You will miss them at 4am, when your slaughtered night turns your mind into a memorial service for what you once slept beside. You will miss them in the empty moments, the still space that fills your day when you can’t convince yourself to stop diving into your brain. This is how you will miss them.
You see, human beings ought to have been crafted from trees, because they have a tendency to splinter and release into the skin of those they have loved. They have a tendency to branch off into the veins of a human heart; they have a tendency to root themselves into the soul of every human part. This is why you will miss them achingly.
You will miss them jealously. Your skin will sink when you see that they have moved on. Instead of being happy for them despite trying, you will grip your memories inside clenched fists. You will blame them for moving too quickly; you will judge the person they choose. This does not make you selfish, this does not make you bitter or crazy.
This makes you human, and in your humanness you will breathe through empty lungs when you see their new flame wearing the sweater you always reached for when you were cold; you will create hurricanes within your chest when you wonder if they have laughed like you, explored like you, loved passionately like you. You will never know. It is none of your business to know. This is why you will miss them maddeningly.
You will not miss them wholly. You will miss the highlights. You will fail to remember all of the mismatched parts that lead you to make the decision to move forward; that lead you to realize that your heart was better off in softer hands. You will miss the mornings you spent curled up in their arms, forgetting that you never truly felt like you were home. You will miss the Springs and the Summers of their love, but you will fail to remember the frost that often came between you, the cold chill of their Fall, the desolate and unbearable distance of their Winter.
Above all else, please promise yourself that you will miss them with every inch of your bleeding heart, but do not miss out on life because of it. It is important for you to live through the growing pains, for experiences will slowly pour into you knowledge, your soul will grow wiser. You will see how you painted over your ashy memories with shades of rose and blush. You will remember the winters, and how you hated the cold. You will sweat old love out like Scarlet fever, and this – this, is how you will miss them no more.