Missing you hits me like a bullet train. It comes just as sudden and runs me over just as quick. I knew I was standing on the tracks the moment you sent that first text. And now I can't deny that I am still lying on them, because I've found myself wishing you were in every aspect of my life. I know this is real because I want you here when I'm happy, when I'm laughing; I want you there when I'm feeling confused and lost. You had a way to cheer me up. We had a dynamic that could enhance any positive feeling I was having. Your memory interrupts me whenever I'm feeling anything extreme, and it occupies me in my spare hours. Why are you here in this room even when I haven't seen you in over a year? Why do I want to experience these moments with you? I guess you left your mark. You made the biggest impression. By just being yourself, you became an infectious recurring memory; that picture in a locket; that old hoodie you keep wearing; that one thing that just keeps sneaking into your writing no matter what you do.
I miss you. I really do. I just want to see you, and ask how you're doing. Better yet, I wish I never lost sight of you in the first place. I want to watch movies with you and listen to you talk and sing off-key with you and eat cheap food with you. I'd give anything to have you annoy me again, and talk with me like you used to. These old things just keep replaying in my head and I want to replace them with new ones. But you seem so unreachable, more so than how it was back then. You're gone, and I know for certain that you're never turning back. I know for certain that whatever I was to you, is not worth it.
And I'll just keep missing you. Remembering every look you ever cast me, and every smile or frown you ever wore. And I'll just keep imagining what it's like to be with you. I'll just keep making up jokes that you would say, picturing things you'd do, hearing you say beautiful words that aren't really there. I'm sorry that I want you this much, but I really just do. I want you when I'm at my highest, or at my lowest, when I'm feeling like utter shit. I want you when I'm feeling like gold. Honestly, I want you to make me feel like gold. I know you can. Even just imagining you with me, hurts me but makes me blush.
And maybe, just maybe, I'm missing you too much.
