I Stopped Missing You

By

I stopped missing our late night conversations.

I don’t miss the way your words made the night come alive, filled the cold air warm with magic and the darkness feel like a dream I wanted to stay forever awake for. Or how your name on my screen sucked every yawn and sleep out of me and had the power to erase every hesitant thought I ever had of leaving you. When my phone goes off in the middle of the night, I no longer think of you. My heart no longer plays racing beats to a song only I could hear. I no longer hope that it is your name that will flash on my screen and no longer feel disappointed when it doesn’t.

I stopped missing your smile.

Your laugh and the twinkle in your eyes even when there was nothing funny. The way your lips would quiver when you thought of a joke but tried to contain it. Or how your teasing eyes would play games with mine pushing me to crack. I no longer miss your smile that signalled me out from everyone else because I was the only one that smile was meant for. I don’t miss how it softened my edges, smoothed out the bumps in my day and pierced its way into my heart. I don’t miss the look in your eyes when you would smile at me with no reason. And I would smile back because I knew exactly why.

I stopped missing your voice.

My head doesn’t turn frantically anymore when I hear one that sounds just like it. I don’t search for your voice in a crowd trying to hear it call my name. I don’t miss how your voice found its way to my heart and made it brave enough to want to be vulnerable with every vein in it. How your voice woke me up and pushed me through the day and how it caressed me to sleep and protected me through the night. The way it forced me to stop talking because your voice was the only sound I loved to hear. I don’t miss the way your voice made me forget all the other voices.

I stopped missing your compliments.

How you’ve always found me cute and attractive. That you’ve always had a thing for dark-haired girls who were petite. How you preferred my long hair over the short and how it didn’t matter that I didn’t match with your typical types because there was something different about me. I don’t miss you kissing my face and the parts of it I thought were ugly. I can’t recall the flattery that made me feel like a queen instead of a princess, a diamond instead of a stone and glow like a comet instead of a star. I don’t miss how your compliments won me over quicker than your actions.

I stopped missing your stories.

The ones that told me that you wanted to share your life with me and the ones that whispered that you trusted me. I forgot the stories with the names of all your friends who you couldn’t live without and the ex-lovers who you would have once died for. I don’t miss the stories that you couldn’t finish because there was still so much more you wanted to do. The stories that I never asked for but you told me anyway. And the stories that are still yet to come but I will never be a part of.

I stopped missing ‘us.’

And the idea of ‘us.’ The memories that connected us, created us and build a bridge between us that we will never cross again. I no longer miss my name followed by yours and how that phrase used to make me feel like you were standing right next to me no matter how far you were. How it made me feel complete, excited and lucky that I was joined with you and how it felt unreal that it was true. I stopped daydreaming the times when we were one, together and no longer just two people walking together. I stopped missing how great it felt when it was never just ‘me’ but ‘me’ and ‘you.’

At last, I can say, today is the day I stopped missing you. And I wonder, if today could possibly be the day, when you begin missing me.