I miss you, baby.
I miss your good morning texts, even though I never used to get why you sent them.
I miss talking to you about the things: things that bother me and things that make me laugh and things that are just ridiculous.
I miss making plans with you and never following through.
I miss finding nooks and corners in the movie hall to kiss you because I only got the courage to own your body in dark, scary places.
I miss screaming at you for some ridiculous thing you said because you sometimes like to make me angry and sometimes, I liked to get angry to see you squirm.
I miss you, baby.
I miss you at night and in the day. I miss the fact that no one says good morning anymore. I can’t remember anything good about any morning without you.
I miss you when I am at work and when I cook. I thought I won’t miss you when I am busy. But the more I am busy, the more I miss you.
I miss you throughout the day and I hope it will stop there but I dream about you in the night. I miss how your body felt on mine and how you engulfed me.
I miss having the hope that we could be something great and I miss having you in my life.
I miss you, baby.