"You'd miss me, though, right? If I was gone?"
"What?"
"I mean, I'd get it if you didn't after a while. But—at least for a little bit, you'd think of me sometimes, right?"
"What are you on about?"
"Do I mean enough to you—for you to miss me? Like a permanent ache in the chest, like a weight on your shoulders, like a whisper on the wind?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand—"
"No, you don't. You probably never will. That's fine, though. I know you won't. I just—I want to know if I mean even nearly the same to you as you do to me. Will you miss me like I miss you, every second of every day?"
"..."
"Your presence feels like a popsicle on hot days, warm soup on cold ones and like a lighthouse that steadies me no matter what. Your absence makes it hard to breathe, like your departure stole your presence and all the air around me with it."
"...what?"
"You mean the world to me. But sometimes, I forget that I can't bear the weight of the world."
YOU ARE READING
drabbles
Poviedkybasically short stories ranging from 1 sentence to like 500 words, feel free to read if you're bored and looking for something to distract yourself :DD i can't find the artist credits for the cover anywhere, so if you know who made this incredible p...
