The Worst Feeling in the World

The Worst Feeling in the World

The worst feeling in the world
is missing someone
you don't believe misses you at all.

Because I don't miss the house.
I don't miss the structure.
I don't miss the life we built simply because it was a life.

I miss you.

I miss you as a person.

I miss your voice.
Your presence.
Your mannerisms.
The little things about you that nobody else could ever quite replicate.

I miss the person I knew.
The person I loved.
The person whose existence became so familiar to my heart
that I never imagined there would be a day
when I would have to learn how to exist without you.

And that's the part I don't know how to explain.

People can tell me to move on.
They can tell me to rebuild.
They can tell me that there are other people in the world,
other possibilities,
other lives I could create.

I know.

But none of them are you.

I'm not grieving an empty house.

I'm grieving the absence of one particular human being
whose place in my heart cannot simply be filled
by putting someone else there.

And perhaps that's why my heart won't let go.

Because my heart isn't confused about what it misses.

It misses you.

I don't know whether you ever miss me.

I don't know whether I cross your mind
when the world gets quiet.

I don't know whether there are moments
when something reminds you of me
and you feel even a fraction of what I feel.

Maybe there aren't.

Maybe you've moved so far beyond me
that I'm only a distant memory now.

And God, I hope that's not true.

Because while I am learning how to live in a world without you,
some part of me is still quietly hoping
that somewhere inside you
I still exist too.

Not because I need the old life back.

Not because I need the house back.

Not because I need the past reconstructed exactly as it was.

I just miss you.

And I wish I knew
whether somewhere, somehow,
you miss me too.

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