Missing someone is a kind of grief. It’s like when someone dies, but the only difference is that you have a choice to change the fact that they’re gone.
Of course, you could go on and tell me about that guy you miss back when you were in college who would always wear his brown jacket, a plaid shirt, with his vans.
Who gave you way too much attention, but then one of you had to go. And you never felt so alone.
Or you could tell me about that girl you see everyday on the train, who had her own extravagant sense of style, yet still managed to stay mysterious. And then one day you don’t see her.
You tell yourself that she’s sick or that something came up. But you never see her again. And you feel like you’re in a crowd of strangers again.
Or you could just tell me about how you fell in love with your best friend. A charmer, who never took you for granted.
And then one day he finds someone, and you keep telling yourself that you ‘missed’ your chance. And you two slowly drift apart.
You could even tell me about that time where no one called you on Christmas, or how you spent valentine’s day alone or maybe about the time when you were a kid, and you lost your favorite toy.
The truth is, you are alive, and gone, but I had to mourn you