I miss
the way he called me
“My love.”

I miss
the late-night calls,
his voice soft and sleepy,
but still for me.

I miss
the arms
that never held me—
yet somehow felt like home.

I miss
the voice that whispered,
“It’s gonna be okay,”
when nothing else could reach me.

I miss
his gentle “Hmm, that’s great,”
his casual "Hii”
like it meant everything—
and somehow, it did.

I miss
his quiet presence,
comforting,
even in silence.

I miss
his cheesiness,
the way he'd make me blush
with just a line.

And it’s not that he left me.
He didn’t.
But I miss him—
in every second,
in every thought.
He's everywhere,
except here.