I Miss You

A lot.

I miss seeing you, I miss waking up next to you, and I miss having you near me.

I know this isn’t fair, and I know I shouldn’t say this, but I do.

I acknowledge that technically I chose this, and that I was the one to make the decision final, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and that I don’t miss you all the time.

Everything reminds me of you. Everywhere I look I see you. Not talking to you is like holding my breath for endless hours; it’s unnatural, it’s painful, it’s agonizing.

And to make the situation even harder, I know this is beyond hard for you too.

The guilt and sadness knowing that I made you, the person I grew to love so much, feel so sad, hurts my heart in such a profound way, and drives daggers into the deep consciousness of it all.

It’s hard because you’re still here. It’s not like a death, so complete and absolute, but it feels so much like one.

Melodramatics aside, it is an end, so it is a death in some form. Mourning commences, missing takes action, and the heart goes heavy.

I’m sorry that the feelings have to fade to move forwards, and that contact has to be cut off. I’m sorry that we couldn’t find a way to make it work, and I’m sorry that our love makes us feel the opposite of loved at this moment.

Missing is such an incredible feeling.

It’s so strong, powerful, and unpredictable. One minute you’re ok, the next you find yourself longing for something not there. It’s confusing, uncomfortable, and complicated.

To miss something is to know you once loved something very much, and as hard as missing something is, I’m profoundly grateful to know this feeling, and to know that I’m capable of loving so intensely.

I’m grateful that we got to love in such a way that makes missing such a real thing.

I dedicate this to anyone who has loved, and had to let go.

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Posted on March 28, 2016 .