LETTERS I'LL NEVER WRITE

I MISS YOU BUT DON'T TELL ANYBODY

When I say I miss you, I mean I miss when you would wrap your arms around my waist from behind, and lay your chin on my shoulder, and sway with me to the nonexistent music playing in the background, as if we were Jack and Rose on the Titanic and we were unaware of how that could of been the last night we ever saw each other again, and everything was so simple, and my feelings were being mirrored back to me through the spark in your eyes.

Now when I'm alone, I can faintly hear that song that didn't play that night and I will never be able to listen to it again. I look in the mirror and the image I see is not the same picture shone when I looked into your eyes. Now I can't even get ice cubes from the freezer without feeling like I'm drowning after an impeccable force ruins me, and I'm hesitant to say, but maybe that force, was you.

And when I say I miss you, I mean I don't.