knowing you.
I miss
making you laugh.
I miss
the way bile would rise up in my throat
whenever I worried about you.
I miss
Missing you.
I miss
being able to read you
I miss
your clever literature and your witty take on the world inside your head.
I miss
you finding me funny.
I miss
your gulps.
I miss
your whispers.
I miss
your ears, your fingers, your eyes, your hair, your hips, your navel and your neck.
I miss
the look you gave me when you were either serious or aroused;
the look of almost fear at your own vulnerability.
I miss
holding on for dear life, do you know that?
I miss
being the one to know that.
I miss trying to make you happy.
I miss throwing my life away for you.
I miss every single moment, emotion and time involved with you.
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
and I'm always going to, aren't I?
I don’t know why.