I miss you.

It’s hard to believe it’s only been a couple of days since we’ve last spoken. It feels like months since I’ve heard your voice, or seen your name on my phone.

I’ve been trying to get myself out of bed and do something with my life because it feels like life’s just slipping me by. It is, but it’s been hard. The muscles in my body feel heavy every time I try to move. It’s as if my ankles and wrists were chained to blocks of cement, or the air’s resistance had multiplied overnight so every movement felt like I was swimming. It’s all very dramatic, I know, and if I told you about this you’d definitely laugh. But I just really miss you. 

I miss your fifth-grade level jokes and your cooking. I miss listening to your stories and the random insights you would have throughout your day and would share in minutes-long voice notes. I miss your unwavering care and consideration, which you had for me and for everyone else around you– even the people you didn’t know that well.

There doesn’t need to be a prompt for me to be reminded of you. It happens frequently throughout the day for no reason at all, and every time it does, my body responds with this pang of loneliness and longing. I’m sure you’ve had this feeling too before. I wish we could talk about it. 

A few weeks have passed and still nothing has changed. It’s like there’s a grey cloud forever suspended over me. There will be times when the rain lets up a bit and there’s only drizzle. But inevitably the rain returns, either gradually or all at once, and sometimes is accompanied by thunder and lightning. Today the rain is particularly bad. 

I didn’t think I could care so much and feel so strongly for a person that wasn’t my family. Regretfully, I haven’t had many intense friendships in my life– I think partly because it takes me a long time to really warm up to people. Despite this, there was something about you that I really took to. Before I knew it, you were just a natural constant in my life.

Being with you was easy and reassuring. Your presence brought such a particular ease and comfort that I didn’t have to think twice about what I did or said when I was around you. I honestly didn’t have to think about much at all. 

I don’t think it’s settled in that you’re really gone, which means the way I’m feeling now still stands to get worse. That scares me.

I know that eventually I’ll move on. Time, they say, heals all wounds, and I’m no unique exception to this rule. I know there will be a time when I feel better than I do now, when I can look back at the times we were together with fondness without yearning for the past. But knowing this doesn’t dull the pain any more. I still really miss you.

Memories of us and the thought of you haven’t been as intrusive recently. I’m starting to look ahead to the future as opposed to reluctantly dragging myself through every day. In realizing that, I’m both happy and sad. The void in my life is starting to close, but this also means you’re becoming an increasingly distant memory.

I talked to a friend about this feeling, of being caught in the middle between so desperately wanting to move on from someone and simultaneously waiting on them to come back. They said I’m beginning to accept that things simply are the way they are, and that’s a good thing. But it’s taking everything in me not to force myself back into my previous depression for fear of the day that I stop needing you– because I still want to need you, as bad as that sounds. 

I do think I’m getting better. It’s true what they say about time heals all– but I’m not ready to get better yet if that makes any sense.

My tears are much more infrequent now, and I have significantly less distractedness during the day. There are still nights when you’re all I can think about, but there are also some nights when I’m okay, and can go to sleep in a state of relative peace. There are still bad days but as time goes on there are less of them.

I’m moving on. 

This time apart from you was single handedly the worst I’ve felt in my entire life, but not all of it was bad. In that same time, I’ve grown and learned so many things that I’m so grateful to have come out of this experience. 

Having spent so much time reflecting on our friendship I like to think I’m now more open to letting people in. Having the relationship that we did– even if it was only for a finite amount of time– reminds me that I need to take a chance on people more and allow myself to be vulnerable. 

The time we’ve been apart also hasn’t been entirely unproductive. I started taking better care of myself as a coping mechanism: I’ve been eating healthier, going to the gym, reading again. I think these habits are going to stick. 

Finally, I’ve become so much more resilient. You were and still are such a special person, and being without you has been so difficult. But the fact that I feel better than I did yesterday, and infinitely better than I felt a few months ago gives me faith in my ability to deal with whatever challenges come my way, however difficult or impossible they may seem in the moment. 

Despite all the bad times I had during these last few months, there has also been an abundance of good. You made me a much better person when we were together, and even now while we’re apart. For that, I am incredibly grateful. 

Things still aren’t easy, but I can confidently say that I’m moving on. I am sure that you are too, and I’m genuinely happy for that. 

For now, all the best. 


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