The Missing Piece

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I miss everything about you. All it takes is one glimpse, and I melt away like a candle. I can distinctly hear that silent noise of defeat as my heart’s warmth eats me up. I can put a finger to that feeling, I surmise – despair blended profusely with a lot of missing.

I imagine touching your hand, taking your arm, feeling the softness of it within my fingers, whilst your crystal clear contour shyly peeks at me, asking me to stop. My mishap made me not get enough of you, which I would have willingly succumbed to, had you steered my way. It leaves me with these fanciful whims that always fling me towards pits of emptiness.

I have questions I seek answers to. Just a mere mention of you fills my head with thoughts. Does that happen to you too? Did your moving on ever come closer to the hell I lived every second of my life? Do you often feel that void in your life too? Most important one of all, “Do you miss me?” Or is it all just me? The fool who thought he was in love. The lone warrior who keeps fighting battles with his own subconscious.

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. I have wrapped myself up in this plight of mine, my very own coat of pain that has girdles of barbwire percolating through me. I stand bewildered, watching as it grows in on me. Sometimes I wish it undone, and give in to what life has failed to give.

You are the future I never had. You are the chance I could never take. I miss and miss, and you fade and fade. That’s how we are meant to be. This is what we are meant to be, until a day comes when I wake up in tears and forget your face.

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