If something is meant to be, I mean, really meant to be, it will happen. It might take longer than you think and it might come about when you least expect it, but there it will be. No matter what path you take to get to it. One day it will be there waiting for you to open your eyes, roll out of bed, and open the front door. Waiting for you as long as you’ve been waiting for it.

Because at this point it seems my only options are to be completely infatuated with this cute boy who sometimes smiles and says hi to me, or miss you. And frankly, I don’t think I have it in me to miss you anymore. 

One day I know I will, but at this point, it feels like I’ll never be able to go a day without thinking about you. That seems incomprehensible. All those lingered thoughts never stumbling upon a stray strand of your hair or accidentally brushing against your arm. Because a day without thinking about you is a day when nothing reminds me of you - and everything reminds me of you.

You’re every word I read, every person I see, and everything I do. 

It’s more of a passive process than an active one, missing you. I don’t consciously think about it anymore, but it’s still there, like the steady breathing of a sleeping baby and the wind that makes the tree branches sway. Just when I think I’ve moved on, it creeps into the silence that is my empty car on the drive home from work and the minutes before I fall asleep at night. How do you stop something like that? How do you get up and walk away from something that follows you everywhere?

The thing is, I would give you the world if I could. I would wrap it up and hand deliver it. I would draw the mountains on your back and let the ocean wash your worries away. And that’s what gets me every time. Every fucking time. You can’t give the world to someone and expect them to keep it if they don’t want it. 

I’m not sure how to say this properly, but, I want to be one of those girls that has a boyfriend and people aren’t surprised by it. Like, “Oh, of course you would have a boyfriend, look at you!”. But when they say “look at you!” they don’t mean in a physical way, they mean in a way that of course someone would want to be with you and take care of you because you have a kind heart and you’re generous and just being around you makes things a little better. 

It comes in waves. One minute I’m breathing easy, the next I’m drowning and I can’t stop the current from dragging me down with it. My love for you is an ocean. It spits me out just after it swallows me whole. It’s debilitating. And the only thing worse than being in it is being out of it. 

Sometimes I wonder why people bother with love. Not because I’m cynical, because I’m skeptical. You put everything you have into the other person. Your heart, your mind, your soul. And they can just leave whenever they want, like they didn’t notice any of it. Any of your words or your actions. How you smiled when they smiled, how you fell asleep so comfortably in their arms, how you looked them in the eyes when they spoke. What are you left with after that? Other than an empty house and an empty heart.