Missing you.

I walked in and glanced through the small amount of people already there. I saw you instantly.

I always do.

Something in me knew it was you before it could register in my mind. I looked back again; yes of course it was you. Your back was to me. But I recognized your stance, the way you held your shoulders.

I ignored your presence, talked to the people I came with. We just needed to grab what we needed and walk right back out. I felt you looking at me; without thinking about it, I looked up.

Our eyes met.

I looked away before you could. I’m assuming you did within the next few seconds. I glanced your way again a moment later. Your head, still up, slightly tilted, as if you were listening to me and my friends.

I tore my attention away from you and for a few moments, I didn’t let my eyes drift your way again. As we left, I looked for you. You were sitting at a tall table beside your normal one, your back to me again. You were sitting alone.

You always were.

How can two people like you and me look at each other… as though we’re strangers? It’s amazing to me. You and I are the furthest thing from strangers people could ever be. How can people who know each other at the level we do really just look at each other and then look away as if we have never met?

I just don’t understand it. I cannot, in any way, wrap my mind around it. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not how life was meant to be lived.

Broken relationships were never part of the plan.

My word. How can I miss you this much after two and a half years?

Missing you.



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