Answer me when you get this

1:08

Six long months and things went back to normal, but there is still something missing from the landscape. Trees have grown green again. The sun is up in the sky; sky as blue as the sea water. Clouds are barely waving at us. People are smiling again. The city is waking up to the smell of spring; getting drunk from the sounds of people laughing, loving. The light is hitting the stone houses almost too much; hitting my retinas, dehydrated, for I still cry myself to sleep.

Six long months and things went back to normal, but there is still something off. It is almost as if everything was too much, and I get headaches from just looking outside my window. The dorm is too noisy as I am going home at 3 a.m., its silence is driving me mad between their laughs and the glasses being put down. My emotions are playing hide and seek with my reality and my right mind left. All is left is a dark blank space on a page, and pictures. Those scary pictures haunting me when my gaze crosses it of those faces. It still is a distant dream, and your features are fading away.

Six strange-feeling months and things did not quite change, in fact. It still feels the same as it did six months ago, like all of this is a lie, and you are just going to come back from a trip to God-knows-where, and I swear I will not ask you any questions, everything will just be like it always was, I swear I will act like nothing happened and you never left. We all will. But please come back. We miss you now, we are still waiting, we even kept a chair for you, for if you ever decided to just show up to share memories with us. Let's joke about your family, let's laugh about a stupid play-on-words you made, let's burn our meal, let's do anything that will please you. But please come back.

Six unsettling months and things are still the same, I think. I still miss your smile. You gave me the purest one the last time I saw you. I still miss your laugh. You let out the loudest one on that Monday evening. I still miss your clumsiness. You do not need me to remind you of your deadlines anymore. I still miss your presence. I still miss you, and I think we all do. We just do not know how to express it, I don't, but gosh do the tears flow when the sun is leaving the sky to let the moon take over.

Six months and nothing changed. I am still writing to the void, expecting an answer, reassurance maybe. From you, from her, from them, from myself. I should not expect anything anymore, and I lost myself again tonight. I lost it to that red scarf hanging from the shelf, and I am so sorry I failed. I will try again later, I will come back again later, and I will still end up writing out a letter. To you.