I can’t remember what your voice sounds like. I just closed my eyes and I tried to hear it. I truly tried. I strained my ears and I strained my mind. I can’t. Where is it? Where are you now?
You’re gone. To say that I miss you would be a gross understatement. To simply say that I miss you would be to make a mockery of the English language because in truth what I feel is so much more. It’s so much deeper. It’s an aching. It’s sobbing on the bathroom floor. It’s a primitive welp, like I’m a wounded animal. It’s in my bones. It’s in my cells. I more-than-miss you.
I’m lost without you. I haven’t been whole without you, but I have to make do. What else can I do? I won’t lie, I’ve been doing a fucking shitty job of it. Of functioning. If you saw me now, you might be pretty disappointed in me. You might not recognize me at all… I feel ashamed when I think that way. Then again, maybe you’d be loving and supportive and tell me what I need to hear to get out of this slump. You were the most loving person I knew after all. You always saw the best in me. Would you see the best in me now? I can’t imagine how you could, but if anyone could do it, it would be you.
I know your voice is there somewhere, deep within the recesses of my mind. And I know if I heard it, if I heard you saying my name just one more time, if I heard you laughing or telling me that you loved me, I would feel okay. But I won’t hear it. I will never hear your voice ever again. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. I more-than-miss you. I need you. I’ve lost you, and now I can’t hear you.