I love you

I don’t usually talk about feelings.

They’re messy, loud, and rarely worth the trouble.

But tonight the silence got too heavy, and apparently my brain decided it was a great time to drag old ghosts into the room.

So here we are.

I miss you.

I hate admitting that.

I hate how human it sounds.

How weak it feels on my tongue.

But it’s true.

It hits me at random

a song you used to hum under your breath,

a game we playedtcaring about only the other,

a stupid inside joke that still tries to make me smile.

I don’t want to romanticize it.

We weren’t perfect.

We weren’t even close, sometimes.

But there was something there sharp, electric, real in a way very few things are.

And now there’s just this empty space where you used to fit so naturally.

A quiet shape in my life that nothing else fills, no matter how busy I pretend to be.

I tell myself it’ll fade.

Everything does, eventually.

Feelings burn out like cheap matches if you stop feeding them.

But some nights…

I still find myself looking at my phone, wondering if you think about me at all.

Wondering if you ever scroll past an old photo and feel that same sting in your chest.

I don’t want you back.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Wanting someone who you left behind feels pathetic.

But missing you?

Missing you just happens.

Like breathing.

Like hurting.

And tonight, it’s louder than usual.