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.