We’re distant, unemotional, so consumed with our lives that we always seem to pass each other by. We’ve adjusted to the emptiness, mending our hearts around the hollow spaces. We’ve steeped ourselves in words unspoken, wondering how we’ve arrived here, assuming the worst, questioning our intentions, regretting every slip of the tongue.

But I can no longer live under the weight of our deafening silence, wishing I could reach out, constantly pulling back.

I miss the way we used to be.

I miss the days when everything felt easy. We had time for nothing but each other, days filled with love and laughter. We were relentlessly carefree, together savoring the joyous moments before life threatened to pull us apart. We assumed every glimmer of stress and strife was the end of the world, but we knew that together, we were unbreakable.

I miss the days when we felt closer than ever. We shared everything — our hearts, our souls, our deepest fears, our darkest secrets. We listened to each other without judgment, waiting in the wings with kind words and unmitigated encouragement to soothe our greatest doubts. Through our frustrations, through our tears, we forged a connection that transcended distance and time, a bond we hoped would last for an eternity.

I miss the days when we knew we could last. We promised each other a forever kinship, a bond that could never be broken. We dreamt of each milestone we would savor together, imagining we would remain by each other’s sides until the end of time. We assured ourselves that we were strong and steady, unbreakable in our powerful love and devotion, destined to eternally remain together.

Now, all that remains is a lingering trail of worries, doubts, questions, and fears — a shadowy mountain of trepidation. But as we begin to crumble under the weight of life itself, I search for healing because more than anything, I miss the way we used to be.