(no subject)
I miss the weekends that we would spend only with each other
I miss the dates you would go out of your way to make for us, always inventive, always fun
I miss the curve of your smile, the crinkling of your eyes
i miss your enthusiasm for life, your drive, your passion
I miss the letters we would write for each other, expressing things we were too shy to say in person
I miss your smell, your taste, your sound
I miss seeing your back steadily rise and fall next to me, in the dark of night
I miss sitting in bed reading comic books with you
I miss feeling energised by your presence
I miss the brushing of your finger tips, when you walked past me in a room
I miss how we were always dancing, teasing, playing, laughing
I miss how flooded you became with emotion, how free you were to cry
I miss the way you talk in your sleep, the way you can sleep anywhere
I miss your wit, always accurate, but never cutting
I miss you moaning about your flatmates, I miss your rambling monologues when you were tired, I miss the deadly stillness of your anger, the evervescant bubbling of your joy
I miss you, and I don't seem to be missing you any less as the days go by. I occupy nothing but dead time, eating when i remember, sleeping when I have to, there is no happiness. Because you are gone. Because I still love you.
I miss the dates you would go out of your way to make for us, always inventive, always fun
I miss the curve of your smile, the crinkling of your eyes
i miss your enthusiasm for life, your drive, your passion
I miss the letters we would write for each other, expressing things we were too shy to say in person
I miss your smell, your taste, your sound
I miss seeing your back steadily rise and fall next to me, in the dark of night
I miss sitting in bed reading comic books with you
I miss feeling energised by your presence
I miss the brushing of your finger tips, when you walked past me in a room
I miss how we were always dancing, teasing, playing, laughing
I miss how flooded you became with emotion, how free you were to cry
I miss the way you talk in your sleep, the way you can sleep anywhere
I miss your wit, always accurate, but never cutting
I miss you moaning about your flatmates, I miss your rambling monologues when you were tired, I miss the deadly stillness of your anger, the evervescant bubbling of your joy
I miss you, and I don't seem to be missing you any less as the days go by. I occupy nothing but dead time, eating when i remember, sleeping when I have to, there is no happiness. Because you are gone. Because I still love you.