This Is Where I Complain

I do not want to miss you. I miss your eyes, your intelligence, your hugs and the nature of your smile. I miss saying your name without whispering it into my dreams and I miss seeing you without tearing at the seams. I can’t shake this feeling like maybe, just maybe, we could go back to where we left off. Because we are like strangers now, pretending like we’ve forgotten. Maybe you have. I never will. How do you tell a stranger you remember the shade of their eyes and the cadence of their handwriting, that their name still sounds like a song to you and that their mind is a galaxy to be explored? I’ve been telling myself you’ve changed so much but I’ve always know the truth.The person I miss still exists. I do not want to miss you, but oh, does it burn. Give me hope that we can try again. I want to try again.