Express The Distress

i don't miss you

I don't miss you. No—I'm splitting at every patched-up, color-coded seem.

Do you see it? How I'm aching—with every thoroughly thought out thought of you. Remembering all that we did, all that we still want to do. Reminiscing in our Snapchat-saved photo gallery, zooming in almost eighty-five percent to study your crescent moon smile and sharp-shaped, prominent black eyebrows. Attempting to recall every sing-song note of your laugh and the simple steady melody of your voice. Yearning to feel the blunt warmth of your touch all over me like some kind of remedy.

Do you see it? The redness in my eyes where my tears ducks feel the need to cry. The poems I write where my missing you bleeds out in ink staining every white paper insight. Do you see it? The emptiness in my cheeks, the raw skin-striking coldness I feel in every passing breeze. How about the dreams? The dreams you fill and never seem to leave.

No, I don't miss you.

Because I'm full of you.

Full of aching and throbbing; pricks and pangs. Full of anguish and want and need and a heck a lot of love. My heart is hiccuping, dealing with a little homesickness.

But that's what distance does. That's what love creates. Divots in my day where you fall seamlessly into play. But it's okay. Because this pain is worth the world. You are worth the world and I'll deal with it until you and I are back together. Until our whirlwind becomes a part of our weather.

So no, I don't miss you.

I fall apart and piece myself back together knowing you and I will one day be forever.

-love,
the naive girl's heart you broke