I miss you so much. 
That's all I really wanted to say.
                

I miss your eyes. 
I miss your pretty face.
I miss your sweet embrace
I miss, everything about you. 
I miss the walks on the beach, 
where we held hands 
and watched the waves as they crashed together. 
I miss the Tesco meal deals.
I miss really everything about you, 
I really don't know where to begin. 
I miss how you'd bully me about my posture. 
I miss spending time with your family, 
when we'd cook with your mom 
and when your dad would drive us around.
I miss your friends as well. 
I miss how nice it made me feel, 
because I don't have a family myself, 
and pretending I was part of one 
was really special to me. 
I miss travelling to see you, 
the 12 hour bus rides were hell on earth, 
but it was worth every moment with you. 
I miss kissing you, 
and hugging you, 
and I miss the nights we spent together; 
where nothing mattered but your soft embrace. 

I guess I was desperate for more than that. 
I had this fear of losing you, 
and because of that I wanted 
every moment to be 
more

so I could have the whole of you,
while I could have you.

Ironically enough
that's why I couldn't have you. 
I was too much 
and couldn't appreciate the moment. 

I miss you. 

I really, really miss you. 
I'm so sorry. 

I'm so fucking sorry. 

I've grown
and I want to show you that.
but it's too late, 
isn't it? 

I'm sure you've moved on, 
maybe even found someone new. 
I wish I could say the same. 
I wish I could show you that, 
but there's nothing to show. 
And, even if there was:
it wouldn't fix anything. 

I used to feel a lot of guilt, 
not so much anymore. 
I know that 
while I didn't act as I should have,
I'm also not deserving of the hatred. 
It's sad that I'm someone
you perceive as unworthy of
being in your life. 
I guess it's 
just how it is. 

I remember a few weeks ago 
I was staring at the moon 
and wondering if you were doing the same. 
I guess it would've brought us closer together. 
Right? 
It's weird,
how so many eyes glare at the stars, 
yet those eyes are so distant. 
Maybe out of those thousands of pairs,
staring at the sky, 
at some point both of us 
were staring at eachother. 
Maybe we're doing so right now. 

Or maybe we aren't. 
Who's to know? 

That's the worst part, the 
"Who's to know?". 
The distance kills me. 

It really does. 
I wish that 
you could hear these words, 
so the distance would just 
crumble    apart. 

And I'd be in your bed again. 
And this time I wouldn't be all over you; 
I'd just hold your hand, 
happy that I can feel 
your fingers against mine. 

I miss you.