I’m Done Apologising For Missing You!

Go ahead and call me pathetic.
Call me heartsick, a masochist and ridiculous for hanging on to something that isn’t there.

Roll your eyes and say you don’t get it.
Judge me for admitting that I still sit up at night hoping that maybe he’s awake and thinking about me too.

Seriously go ahead.
Say whatever you need to say.

Get it out and say that I should be over it by now.
Say I’m doing this to myself.
Say that this is just a waste of energy.
Say whatever comes to your mind about the fact that I’m openly and freely admitting that sometimes around a fire pit I wish he was the one telling stories.

That sometimes when I hear his name and something in my heart still stings.

It’s fine, I miss him and I’m done feeling bad about it.

I think there’s this belief that once you move on and once you heal from being hurt, that you are never supposed to ache about someone ever again.

That one day POOF you are just over it and you will never feel sad again.

That there is an expiration date for loneliness, for nostalgia and for that inexplicable feeling of wishing you could tell someone the good news.

And after that poof and after that expiration date, you will never feel those feelings again.

They will be gone and you will be fine and never to feel sad again.

That’s not true, that’s a complete and utter lie.
When you love someone and love them deeply, they are connected to you.

They become your home, your rock and your everything.

So when they are gone, it’s normal to miss them.
It’s normal to become homesick for places and for people.

It’s not good and it’s not bad, it just is and sometimes I can’t help it.

Sometimes I’m homesick for you.

Not all the time.
No, I’m not pining for you every minute of every day.

I don’t obsess, don’t dwell and don’t sick twiddling my thumbs in a constant state of lonely misery but sometimes, I miss you.

Something wonderful or exciting happens and I want to run up to you and tell you.

Something scary happens and I want to hear your voice reassuring me that it’s going to be ok.

Something new is thrust my way and I want to talk it out with you and hear what you would do.

Sometimes I just miss you.

I’m done trying to hide it.
I’m done thinking that just because I get sad or miss someone or wish things weren’t the way they are that it makes me weak or pathetic.

I’m done swallowing down the things that burden me in the interest of saving face.

I’m done pretending like I don’t miss you, just because somewhere along the line, someone decided I wasn’t supposed to.

You were a part of my life.
You were someone that was important to me.
You were someone I cared for.
You were someone I thought worth missing.

I refuse to believe that shoving memories under the bed, pretending that nostalgic moments aren’t in the back of my mind and that pretending I don’t miss you is healthier than simply admitting the truth.

I miss you and I’m not sorry.
I loved you and I’m not sorry.

If that makes me pathetic then so be it.

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