I didn’t miss you at first. At first, it was easy. We parted ways and it hurt but when something is over you just feel it in your bones. There was no denying an ending was coming our way even when both of us were denying it. We wanted to spare each other’s feelings but holding onto something that isn’t there hurts more than letting go.
We parted ways with a hug and a kiss. I drove away smiling. I was happy we ended on good terms. A thank you was uttered on both ends because there was no denying the love we had for each other.
In the time we were together and the time I had you with me I was grateful for it. But with you came a sense of insecurity I couldn’t shake. Like I was bound to say goodbye at some point. But I never thought that day would actually come. I never thought you’d pull away when I reached for your hand. I never thought our last kiss would be something I had to try hard to remember.
But days turned into weeks that turned into months and I was forgetting everything. Like you were just some page in my book that I was supposed to turn so easily. But there were words I reread and an ending I didn’t want to get to. I thought being fixating upon the past and trying so hard to not forget would change the future. But all it left me with was a story I didn’t like the ending to.
That was when I started to miss you most.
The nights that kept me tossing and turning. The dreams where you met me in my sleep. The uncomfort in waking up alone when I remembered what it was like to have you next to me.
Then it began to hurt. It hurt when people asked how you were and I couldn’t tell them the answer. Because I didn’t know. It hurt getting that plus one invite and assuming I’d take you. It hurt going alone watching love before my eyes and maybe it was inconsiderate of me to be jealous of a happy ending I always thought would be where we ended up.
I began to miss you but it was almost like I was missing a piece of myself because in every bit of my reflection I saw you looking back at me. So much of who I was, was because of you.
And in everyone, I looked at I looked for you in a desperate attempt to find myself. And every place I went I was hoping you’d be there. Maybe we’d make eye contact. Maybe you’d see me and remember. But of the greater fear I had if ever that encounter became a reality was you forgot everything I couldn’t seem to.
I missed having a friend to turn to. I missed having someone to love. I missed having someone to talk to. I missed knowing with confidence there was someone other than myself I could rely on.
But the phone stopped ringing and we became strangers I never thought we’d be.
I miss everything about you. I miss everything about us.
It doesn’t just come in waves it comes in tsunamis that never seems to let me catch my breath. Without you, it feels like I’m drowning like everything is fog as I twist and turn under water not even knowing which way is up.
The tears are hidden under water and no one can even tell I’m crying or struggling or gasping for breath as I let out a silent scream hoping and praying this pain will subside and I will come out of this.
It feels like I’m drowning but if you look at me you’d see someone calm. You’d see someone who looks like they have it all together.
I didn’t want to miss you like this like every sip of alcohol reminds me of the past I should forget but can’t seem to. Where every blurry person in a crowded bar looks like you. Where every night out ends with me in tears on the bathroom floor uncertain how to process this pain that consumes me. Then I wake up the next day with my head throbbing and I realize I’m not okay. Nothing is okay.
And everyone says I’ll get over you. I’ll forget you. But how do you forget someone who gave you so much to remember?
Maybe I’m hanging on to something that is long gone. Maybe I remember the past better than it was. Maybe I’m clinging to pain because it’s the only thing that reminds me I’m actually alive and feeling anything at all. Because in a desperate attempt to numb all this I feel, all I’ve come to realize people never stay but the pain does. And maybe I like knowing at least that I can rely on.