You are Missing from Me

I miss home when I’m missing you.

You feel like my childhood pictures, mom’s home cooking, comfort, affirmation, my mom’s voice, laughter, being carefree and worryless, a beautiful song. You are familiar. A place I should have known was where I’ve always wanted to be. Oh honey, You are missing from me…

Again

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“Please don’t message me again.”¬† I felt that all too familiar sinking of the heart to my stomach¬† as I read the words I knew were being acted out for the past month and a half – the pain.

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I saw it coming because I felt the air of disdain that was always prevelant in your conversation and all the while I wondered to myself; “What did I do?” Maybe if I hadn’t said that or maybe if I had done more of this, you would be nicer to me. Nicer to me? Since when do I have to beg for or earn common decency?!

But I am not made of stone. I am not hard. I do not feel nothing and I did nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with taking pleasure in taking care of you and wanting to have you near me. I just wish the shattered feeling was avoidable. I wish I could not feel it.

Maybe people are bad. Maybe they are cruel and don’t care about anyone but themselves. Maybe it is best to stay away from them all if it all ends like this.