I miss you.

So people keep asking me what is different with you. Oh, my bad, I meant: what was different with you. You are no longer part of my life after all. {To be honest, where you ever part of it at all?} 

In any case, I can sum it up in one sentence: I felt relief to be myself around you. There were the occasional white lies of course, to impress you, but overall I was just happy to be myself. You made me feel worthy, in the sense that I didn't have to "be more" or "be less" of anything. I didn't have to be more smart, or less smart, more of a grown up, less sense of humor. More or less, I felt that you approved of what I already was. I didn't need to "fix myself" around you. I was enough. 

I've read in articles that you no one can make you truly happy, unless you are already happy with yourself. It must be true, because I'm never quite pleased with what I am. Maybe this is the reason why I'm still on my own. Which is why it was a relief that you somehow liked what I already was.

Your smile and your eyes, the sound of your voice, I miss it so much. The gaze that never wavered when you were speaking to me or listening to me. I would be looking at the ground but not you. You were looking directly at me. I felt relief, and I felt safety. The effortless way in which you made me smile, I miss it too. 

I miss you so much. Oh, how I miss you. 

It's been 7 weeks of no contact, and I feel like grabbing the phone every minute now. But I will not do it. Because I know. And when you know, you can't fake ignorance. At least not forever. You are half the world away. You are so far away, but now you feel even further. Like you are unreachable. A figment of my imagination, a game that my mind played while I was trying to navigate this big city last summer.

I don't know if you miss me. I regret to say that you probably aren't. At least, there is no sign of it, so I can't really know. And if I can't know, then I must assume that you aren't. But I miss you. I miss you so much. Oh, how I miss you.