I Still Miss You


I said it.

I am not heartbroken anymore., I’m not. I’m not just a girl saying that to convince everyone staring at her with inquisitive, intrusive eyes. I’m saying it because it’s the truth.

It is.

” I miss you. There, I said it .”

I no longer find you to be a habit.

I do not instinctually think to call you, I don’t have your number memorized anymore( 261? Or was it 216 ?) and when something happens I do not find my helping hand reaching for a phone to start typing away to tell you all of the details. You are no longer my emergency contact and frankly, I don’t think I would recognize your voice in a crowd.

There are days, and there are moments, where all I want to do is look over at you at grin and roll my eyes. There are days, and there are moments where I know I’m being stupid but you would still laugh at me. There are days, and there are moments, where I feel like you would be the only one to understand me.

I can admit that there are periods where I know that even though I may not be able to remember your voice, I still miss your laugh.

And I still actually want to hear it.

” I still miss you. There, I said it .”

I’m no longer empty.

I do not feel like I have a gaping hole shaped exactly like your torso in my chest. I do not watch the blood pulsate in my veins and see your lies flowing through me. I do not look for you to finish my sentences or to pick me up at the end of the day. I am not trying to finish anything because I’m complete.

I am complete on my own. I’m whole.

I find my fingers looking for the ink on your shoulders to trace and my hands looking for you to hold at night. I find myself swallowing down your name when I’m on an empty beach and wish I had more company than driftwood. I hold myself back from saying,” He would have loved this” on summer nights.

I may be whole, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room.

” I still miss you. There, I said it .”

I am not waiting for you anymore.

I do not stay up at night, I am not sitting in my bed while look at this place the door only picturing you coming through it. I do not watch the clock move up and feel disappointed when you don’t. I do not save a pillow for you, there’s no water on the nightstand running untouched, “were not receiving” chair in my apartment with a permanent dibs. There’s nothing for you here.

This is a world that I created without you.

This is not yours, and I’m not waiting for you to claim your space.

I’m not hoping , not wishing , not appearing , not praying. And I am most definitely not waiting.

Because I’m older now, wiser now. And I know there’s nothing there for me.

I’ve moved on.

There is no but.

I’m simply not heartbroken over you anymore.

” I still miss you. There, I said it .”

There is still a longing. I can pretend to ignore it, that it is simply a result of too many glass of wine and ballads, but it’s there.

And try as I might, I do not, , cannot , deny it.

Because I think there always will be.

Because I still miss you.

And I believe a part of me always will.

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