they say that you’re mean, that i went crazy after you

i miss her. i often think about talking to her again, telling her that i read her favourite book, “a thousand splendid suns”. i want to ask her if that’s still her favourite book. i want to tell her that i read all the author’s books in an attempt to feel close to her. i want to tell her that i’d give up everything to hear her voice again, and to walk down the streets of pakistan with her. i want us to stay up all night discussing politics. i want to be there for her when she’s sad. i want to know if she still has the same friends. i want to tell her i still have the letter she wrote me, and that i didn’t think it was possible for someone to love me the way that she did. i want to tell her that i’d never let anyone love me that way, because that spot is only for her.