I think I miss you.
I mean
I know I miss you.
I miss the parts of you that I allowed to become a story.
The glimmers of hope you eagerly placed into my
My raw, bruised hands.
When you held my naked skin on top of yours
And whispered with warm love into my ear
“you feel so right”.
When your smile sparkled through the gap between your front teeth
Before you pulled my body into your embrace.
As you pressed your lips to mine
With a passion that felt so foreign.
You see
I used these glimmers and sparkles
To create a story of partnership.
To create a story of loved I craved.
As I ignored the night you forgot about our date
Leaving me alone on my couch crying into
The red dress that wrapped my body specifically for your consumption.
Or when you promised to review my newest writing
But told me a few days later you “didn’t have the time”.
Or the evening I kept looking towards the entry way doors
At my first speaking event but you never showed
Because an investor called you.
You see
It’s easy to miss the story of us that I created.
That version of you that sparkled in my eyes
As you ran your fingers through my wavy hair
And said “I’m falling for you”.
It’s hard to reckon this with the reality of us though.
The reality that you did not choose me,
As I chose you.
So I do miss you.
I miss the story that your gap toothed smile made me believe.
