Dear love of my life,
When we do meet, finally, I’ll be mad at you. Really, really angry, mad. I’d be happy, head reeling, blood rising to my cheeks, knees weak, happy. But also, very, very angry with you.
Believe me when I say, I’ll be ready to forgive you. But to begin with, I’ll be mad.
I want you to know you are missed, even though you are not a part of my life right now. Deeply. At times so much, that it hurts. ‘Filmy’ as much as this might sound, it’s true.
I miss you when things get really rough. When everyone around me wants me to have faith in God and I say yes I have faith but I know that I’m questioning everything I know.
I miss you on all the days when I’m supposed to miss having someone in my life. I also miss you on days that are mundane. Mundane is very lonely.
I miss you when I’m sad but more when I’m happy. I miss looking across a sea of people/friends and catch your eye and knowing that only you understand what I want to say.
I miss having you around, telling me that unpleasant things that happen at work are inconsequential.
I miss having fights over dirty socks; untidy rooms; stacks of books, your laptop and two empty water bottles on the dining table.
I miss the comfort of knowing that your hand is just inches away, mine to hold.
Hope you miss me too!