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Oct 2015
I always find myself thinking about you.
Even if I don't mean to.
I could try writing about the seasons and how beautiful they are or how they are forever changing, but I know I'd end up with something hinting at you.
About how I was lonely in the spring, fell for you in the summer, lost you in fall, and let go in the winter.
I write about you because I can't actually tell you how I feel.
So the paper in my journal feels it instead.
Because if I tried to tell you, it just wouldn't come out the same.
How I can't sleep when the smell of you still lingers on my sheets.
How I stopped listening to my music on shuffle because all the songs remind me of you.
How I can't look at pictures of your face because I picture myself next to you still.
How I struggle not picking up the phone to call you when something good or bad happens to me.
How I sit in the shower and wait for the aching to stop before I get out and have to face the world again, alone.
And how I used to laugh at girls that would be love sick over a guy.
But darling, I would give up everything to hear you say, "I miss you and love you too."
Do you see what I mean?
You find your way back into my words, back into my thoughts.
The seasons are changing now, and so are you.
You're still gone.
And I'm still here.
Written by Karleigh Wickens
Karleigh Wickens
Written by
Karleigh Wickens  NH
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