Have you ever just missed someone? Not the, oh I should call them kind of missing. I mean the kind where you are sitting right next to each other. You watch them and yearn for their hands, their kisses, and their attention.

Where you wake up to a good morning and go to bed with a goodnight, but everything in between is different. You don’t feel them like you used to. They don’t look at you like before. They smile, but it’s not in their eyes. Your conversations are no longer deep, but shallow filler.

The kind of missing that brings a never ending ache to your chest. It’s the pain that leaves an open hole and you can never truly catch your breath. With each tiny act, it grows larger and harder to breathe.

You can physically feel their hand on yours, but there is nothing there. It has become a habit. Stupid and repetitive taking bits of you with each hallow act.

Missing the flirting, the secret smiles, the wanted touches, the desire to please each other. Nightly conversations about everything and nothing. The ones that felt so important and you couldn’t get enough of.

The times when you knew they were listening and when they saw you. Truly saw you.

Have you ever missed someone sitting beside you? It is a pain I can’t explain. It’s not the sudden death of a relationship. The kind you mourn and heal. Out of sight out of mind.

It’s the million little deaths on an endless loop of destruction. Each one tearing and ripping pieces of you off until there’s nothing left.

The missing that taunts you between your good mornings and goodnights.