Friend, relative, lover, almost lover, stranger.
No matter how far apart and how long it’s been, I miss you.
Every time someone walks down the street and they have the curl of your hair or the scent of your cologne and I remember the last time you held me in your embrace – truly held me, unhindered by tension or anger or the weight of goodbye – I miss you.
I remember the conversations we used to have, late into the night.
The dreams I would dream you would catch and save for later. I remember the curve of your smile and the sound of your laugh – the gasping giggle, the impolite guffaw. Every moment went slow enough for time to take a break from ticking and yet impossibly way too fast. I can’t forget the way your eyes crinkled because my heart wrinkles in the same pattern every gasp as I realise I miss you.
And there’s a hole you forgot to fill.
Although I see you all the time – your bright eyed life on my screen, and the stories other people tell, the wind whistles as it whirls around the cracks around the hole you left, inconsiderately. When you left. You left and I never got to say… Well, it’s too late now. But I wonder if you’ll ever realise in your quiet moments that I’m still here and I miss you.
I’m sorry for that time I yelled.
I’m sorry for that thing I spilled.
I’m sorry for that gift I missed.
I’m sorry for that time you tripped.
I’m sorry for the times gone by.
I’m sorry I never got to ask you why.
And I’m just so sorry, but you need to know I miss you.
I miss you so badly.
And maybe I’ll never see you again. Or maybe I’ll see you in a crowd and not approach you because you look so happy. Perhaps I’ll see you sitting alone and not encroach because you look so sad. Dare I wonder whether you miss me? But oh my love, know this. I miss you.