I’m done pretending to be happy. I’m just not. It’s getting harder every single day to be happy. I’m not going to be passive agressive through messages on here or facebook. All I can do is try to distract myself from being sad, but it always comes back.
I miss you. I miss your teeth and how they catch your lip when you nervously hold back a smile. I miss how I could never tell exactly what color your eyes were, how I spotted a new color or particle everyday when you used to stare lovingly into my soul. You’re the only person who can dig that far deep into me. I miss your big dreams and limitless ambitions, the way you would never let anyone tell you anything different. I miss the way your body seemed to be built to accompany mine perfectly in every possibly way. I miss your sticky notes. I miss how your scent used to stick to my shirt. I miss bringing you flowers. I miss elevating above consciousness for moments to wrap you in a full embrace and forget about of the stresses and pressures in my life. I miss telling you that you looked beautiful every single day. I miss hearing your voice soar over music in harmony, making perfect songs more perfect. I miss rainy days and folk music with you. I miss writing you happy music. I miss being scared nearly to death by your father. I miss driving over train tracks to get to your house. I miss you calling me when you were stressed, or when your mom would freak out about storms. I miss talking to you on the phone as your voice began to grow more tired by the minute, then eventually drift off into nothing but light breathing and ‘I love you’s as you fell asleep. I miss the cute noises you made when you’d get excited, the perfect hybrid between a gasp and a squeak.
I miss all ten of your fingers, all two of your eyes, and all two million of your facial expressions.
I miss chasing you, you miss being chased. We were too comfortable, and emotions began to show. Maybe when you love someone as much as we did, you find what you may not necessarily love, and take it in stride.