- Books, Literature, and Writing
I Hate That I Miss You
Why do I miss you? We were never anything. I don't even know if you really cared about me. Sometimes if I think back to our time together I can see where maybe you did, and then sometimes I wonder if my heart just wills me to believe it.
At first I didn't think you would be anything special. You were just a boy who would probably take no time at all to lose interest in me, because they all do. At the very least I didn't think I would grow attached to you, but I did. And you left, just like I knew you would.
But that part in-between; that's the part I think about at night when I can't sleep. I think about meeting you for the first time and it being so easy to be around you. No one had ever been so easy for me to be comfortable around. From that moment I knew there was something about you.
The first night we hung out alone was unforgettable; maybe it shouldn't have been. Watching movies and cuddling, it all started out so innocently. You held my hand and it sent tingles down my spine. Then you kissed me and I never knew I could enjoy something so much. Granted, I had only ever kissed two other people. Your lips were soft and the stubble on your chin scratched my skin oh so deliciously.
I still remember how you fell asleep. Out of the blue you had your head on my chest and you were just gone. Not a comfortable position for me, but still I found it adorable. I wonder if you remember how I clung to your arm while drifting off; or if you recall repositioning me so there was a pillow under my head. I miss feeling your lips brush against my forehead or caressing my waist with your thumb.
I watched movies because you'd mentioned them. I remember the nickname your family gave you and the people strangers say you look like.
Sometimes I imagine scenarios of the two of us and they seem so real I can almost feel you here again. I've never missed anyone as much as I miss you. Most people would say that's love. But I can't love you, despite the time we spend together I barely know you. I wonder sometimes if I would still feel this way if I did know you better. Or would I not like you at all?
Maybe it's just the odd chemistry we have. This is the kind of thing that doesn't make sense, but maybe just maybe it could work out. At least for a while.
Not now though. We're worlds apart right now and I know you won't come see me. And the worst part is, I would. I would come all the way up there just to see you. Does that make me desperate? Or am I just too much of a hopeless romantic? Do you even miss me at all?
You told me once that you did. It still has the ability to make me smile, even if ever so slightly. I wish every day I could tell you how much I miss you. But I'm not the girl who puts herself into situations that make her vulnerable. If we ever were together you would probably never see me cry. And if you did I would know it was special. And you would too, because I think that crying is a sign of weakness. And I don't like feeling weak.
I'm rambling now so I'll stop, but I'll end with this. I miss you, and I hate it.