Have you ever missed someone so much that it hurts?
So much that every day is a recurring struggle to find the acceptable equilibrium between falling back into a memory and removing yourself enough to function in the present. So much that thinking about them becomes addictive, and part of you wants to wean yourself off of the image of them that you have in your mind, but the other part of you is too afraid that going a day without thinking about them would somehow make them fade into oblivion - forgetting the curves of their face, the sound of their voice in a room, or the taste of their lips on your tongue. So much that you find yourself staring out the windows of planes and trains and boats and buses, wondering where in the world they are at this very moment. So much that, as frustrated as you are at them for not being there for you when you needed them, you’d still do anything just to hear their voice. So much that everything falls into perspective, and the small things that used to matter suddenly seem so insignificant. So much that you know you’d fly halfway around the world to have five more minutes with them, if you knew they’d be there for you when you got off the plane. So much that no matter where in the world you run to so that you can try to get them out of your head to finally regain your focus, it’s never far enough, because they’re always with you. So much that you can’t fathom what it might be like if you never saw them again, as you can no longer imagine a forever without them in it. So much that you wonder if they think about you as much as you think about them, or if you’ve become as insignificant as last month’s spot price on crude oil. So much that no matter whom else comes into and out of your life, the inexplicable pull you feel towards them makes you sure that they’re your person. So much that your attempts to replace them are laughable at best, a PR fiasco at worst. So much that you think you’re finally getting somewhere, feeling new butterflies for someone else, and then something always brings you back to them. So much that you just need to know that they’re okay, that they’re safe, alive and breathing. So much that you shamelessly look at their Facebook page so many times per day that you might as well make it your screensaver. So much that every time you reach a new milestone, all you want to do is tell them – and then you reach to pick up your phone, only to remember that they’re no longer there for you. So much that looking at a picture of them is enough for you to crack a smile. So much that you begin to wonder if there will be another next time, another smile, another memory, or if the last time that you saw them will be the very last. So much that every memory you have with them suddenly becomes clearer than ever, and you wonder how it’s possible for your mind to drift back to the same moment so many times per day. So much that you freeze-frame certain moments and run them back again – thinking about what it might feel like to have them there by your side. So much that you feel like you’re treading water, kicking your legs, moving up the ladder of life, but somehow you’re not going anywhere, trying to hold on to moments passed. So much that you build such a body armor, waking up each day putting on a good face, when part of you feels entirely lost without them. So much that you find yourself constantly stuck in a predicament, knowing you shouldn’t wish even one day of your life away, but wondering if today might be the day when the wondering and the waiting and the treading water finally stops. So much that you miss all the things that you used to take for granted. So much that you didn’t realize how well they understood you until you suddenly had to try to start understanding yourself all on your own. So much that you’re mentally caught between your own selfishness, consumed by want and need, and your selflessness, consumed by the want for them to do whatever makes them happy. So much that caring about another human being takes on a new meaning when you suddenly have to do it from afar. So much that you feel the need to say goodnight to them even when they’re not there, wondering what it might be like if they were. So much that you try as hard as you can to make sure that they’re the last thing you think about before you fall asleep, in hope that maybe they’ll find their way into your dreams. So much that every day starts out with a ray of hope, but ends with a smidgen of disappointment. So much that you hate how much mental energy they consume, but deep down you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. So much that the gaping hole they’ve left in your life is too large and too personalized to be filled by any other human being, so you’re forced to find a way to fill it in yourself. So much that somehow having them so prominently on your mind reminds you how much they’ve shaped you as a person, how much they’ll forever be a part of you. So much that you give it everything you’ve got every single day to be the best possible version of yourself that you can be – because even though they’re not physically present, the thought of them inspires you to keep dreaming big. So much that you keep trying to let go, to push your feelings aside, but something in your gut tells you not just yet.
So much that your body hurts, your heart aches, your mind wanders.