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Monthly Archives: August 2014

Missing

Sometimes, I miss you so much my stomach hurts. It aches from all the laughter I haven’t laughed.
I miss talking to you. Hearing your voice, when I call to tell you this “amazing, super cool, awesome” thing that neither of us will remember tomorrow.
I miss knowing that if I died suddenly, you’d be one of the first to know, because I wouldn’t be picking up the phone.
I miss knowing that if I died, you’d miss me even more.
I miss hearing about your day. I miss telling you about mine.
I miss embellishing stories for you.
I miss distracting myself from something awful by thinking about how I’ll make you laugh about it later.
I miss hearing your voice when I’m bored.
I miss hearing your voice when I’m excited.
I missing having a “you” and “your side of things”. I’m tired of thinking in “I”s and “Me”s.
I miss discussing old things with you. And finding out new things through you.
I miss feeling like the world could be our oyster – as soon as we got around to it.
I miss asking you what you thought of something, anything – and knowing what you’d say, outrageous and bitchy, because you knew it would make me laugh.

And every time I miss you, I remind myself of all the reasons I must miss you.

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Posted by on August 30, 2014 in Fiction

 

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Beep Beep

It sat silent. No lights blinking, no sound. No movement. No vibrations. Nothing.
She stared at the phone. Willing it to light up. Willing a noise. Willing something. Anything.
Willing him to message. To think of her. To reach out and let her know he was thinking of her.
To tell her, by just saying “Hi” that he wasn’t with someone else. That she was important to him.
As important as he was to her.
Even though she didn’t know him. She hadn’t ever met him. She hadn’t ever heard his voice.
All she had, was the loneliness of a dwindling life. The knowledge that slowly but surely, the world was forgetting about her. Forgetting she mattered, in any tiny capacity. Forgetting she existed.

Most mornings, she woke up wondering if anyone would know if she didn’t. She woke up and faced the long, yawning abyss of another day without meaning.
Every night, she messaged him. Wanting him to reply. To say “hi” back. To encourage her in her desperate attempt to find meaning for her life, in his replies. And most nights, she found none.
The nights he did deign to reply, she slept the sleep of the content, weaving dreams of waking up happy, living a life someone else noticed, living a life in which her existence made someone else smile.

The clock ticked on. She checked her phone again. Opened a browser to see if the net was working. There was still time till midnight, when he usually fell asleep. She fell back into bed, wondering what the morning would feel like.

 
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Posted by on August 28, 2014 in Fiction

 

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