I wanted to write something here, for someone I know used to read this. I want to string together a piece of writing that incorporates every emotion I can summon, I want my sincerity to ring through. In this, I want to allow my guard to fall, to admit how lost I am. Yet, I cannot move past the paralyzing fear that it would go ignored. That I would print it off and run up to you with a small smile. Read this, I’d say, I miss you. You’d look at me, confused. In that writing, would be the very core of my vulnerability, the kind that I have shown few people before. Brutal honesty and crushing admissions, I would pour my heart into each tiny letter in a sea of words. You know how hard this would be for me, you know how I feel about being weak. The next day, you would confront me. The scene would happen one of two ways. In the first, you tell me I am a selfish bitch. Looking me dead in the eye, you show a rare rage. Fuck you, you would spit, stop angsting. A slap in the face by your verbal assertion, I would stagger back. Then, turning away, I would run in tears. The second scenario involves you walking up to me. That is nice writing, you might complement, but here is how to improve it. Handing back my heartfelt attempt to explain that I need you, I would see many red marks mocking my attempts to get my point across. You revise my cry for help, I cannot even communicate how much I miss you accurately. Regardless of either scenario, you would then look at the clock. I have to go, you quickly comment, bustling off and leaving me with my amplified frustration.
For these reasons, I refuse to write down what I want to say to you. We used to be so close, but lately you have been so distracted. I watch you fall away, I reach instinctively for you, but there is simply a cold place where you once were. I scream into the night, but you never come. I need/needed you, I whisper to the silence. There is no response. On some nights, I regret pushing you so hard. If I had stepped back, nothing would have happened. You would still talk deeply to me, I could still depend on you. When you two are close, you have no room for anyone else. I miss you, but I am slowly beginning to think I am losing you. Slipping from my hands, you shake me off, as if to tell me no. I do not need you anymore, I have found something better. Let me be, your mannerisms scream. Fine. I miss you. I need you. I want you to listen. Whatever, your eyes will not read this, nor will your ears even hear the hurt I feel. Forget me, but realize that when the happiness is over, I might be gone.
I miss you.
