I miss Chicago.
I miss walking everywhere with my best friend.
I wish I had been brave enough to take his hand on those walks.
I miss walking with my puppy to go meet him after class.
I miss the adventures we had, and planning more adventures with him.
I miss splitting pastries and snacks and meals with him.
I miss joking with him, laughing with him, playing videogames with him.
I miss the silly little nudging game we used to play on the couch, on the train, on the bus.
I miss when our stop was near and he would turn back and offer his hand so I wouldn't fall...and he would lead me to the door before letting go.
I remember the first time he held me...I thought I would lose my mind, I thought I would cry, I thought I would die.
When I close my eyes, I can still feel how his hands felt, intertwined with mine.
I miss laying in bed with him, listening to his heartbeat and just breathing him in, his arms around me.
I remember the time he fell asleep, his arms around me, his hands in my hair, his face so close to mine.
I should have kissed him then. Instead, I confessed when he woke...and he listened to me and let me cry for what couldn't be.
I miss when he would take my face in his hands and tell me everything would be alright.
He doesn't love me. Not like that. But dear god I felt loved, oh so loved, those two weeks.
April 9, 2015