I miss you.
I miss our hikes, and running down the mountain.
I miss teaching you how to do back flips on a rope swing.
I miss the way you used to smile at me.
I miss the notes you used to leave me, and when you would say, “I love you.”
I. still. love you. More than you know, though I try to tell you.
I’m heartbroken, here, waiting for your call. You said yourself, “it’s meant to be,” so let’s make it be, baby.
I miss you, and I’m not the least bit ashamed to tell you:
I love you. I need you.