Missing You

You were never the silent voice in the corner of the dark living room. You were never a mind that was struggling to remember itself. You were never weak bones and a weaker heart. You were never a decaying cage entrapping a brilliant soul.

You were to me what the glimmering stars are to an ambitious sailor navigating his way alone in the unforgiving oceans. You have guided me through my darkest loneliest nights; soothed me with your peaceful presence when I felt like Atlas struggling under the weight of my own celestial ambitions. You were my light, my history, my reason to keep dreaming. 

I have tried to remember – your voice, your face, your laughter. Memories keep slipping from my mind like wisps flying off the surface of a dandelion. I am scared to let you go, I’m scared to forget. Having lived away for so long, I forget to remember that you won't answer when I call, won't be there when I come home. It hurts more and more with every remembrance. Not the kind of pain that haunts you when you’re alone in bed staring at the patterns the moonlight at 3:34am. At 3:34 am, I stare at the stars through the slits of the blinds over my bed, talking to you. It's the kind of pain that gnaws at you in the busyness of the day, when you're swallowed in a sea of strangers – like a crack that propagates from a singularity and no matter how much I try, I can't put a finger on it, I can't stop it from growing.

I was told that it gets easier with every passing day, that time heals all. But it has been way too long without you and missing you is still the best thing I do. Just as I am composed of jigsaw pieces of life experiences, missing you will now always be a part of what completes the puzzle that is me. 

// I see the stars every night, looking for you, I hope you can see me too //