I Miss You In So Many Little Ways

I miss you. I miss the way we could laugh until our bellies hurt over nothing. I miss the way we would lay in my bed watching shark week and be content. I miss the way I would catch you staring at me out of the corner of my eye, and when I would ask you what you were thinking about, you would smile and say “nothing.” I miss how you would text me at 5 pm like clockwork everyday, saying the simple words, “hey, girl.” Two words that would give me butterflies instantly and make me crave your lips against mine.

I miss the way we could talk to each other. I miss saying to someone at the bar, “sorry, I’m taken” and looking at you across the way as I said it. I miss the way you kissed me, even when I was sick with the flu. And how you said “I don’t care, I’d kiss you all day if I could,” when I apologized for it. I miss how we did most of our kissing in private, like we were something coveted, something too good for others to see. And how sometimes when we kissed, I could feel you smiling against my lips. I miss how you used to tell me how excited you were to see me when I walked into your apartment, and how when I couldn’t see you, you were genuinely upset.

I miss the way you would call me just to talk, with nothing in mind to talk about other than to see how my day was going. I miss you and the way you made fun of yourself for prematurely balding. I miss hearing your friends tell me that you’ve never talked about a girl the way you talked about me. And I miss bringing over a tray of cookies and a gallon of milk for you and your friends just because.

I miss having to be convinced by my friends to go out with you, but then being convinced by you that I made the right choice. I miss our awkward first date and how you didn’t lean in to kiss me goodbye, and I miss how happy I was, knowing that I did. I miss the way you would grab my hand and pull me into a kiss, wrapping your arms around me so tight I wished you’d never let me go. And how when I asked if you were happy in the end, you said “You make me happy.” But most of all, I miss the person who showed me that I made him happy, not the one who said it only because I asked. The one who couldn’t wait ’til Thursday night so we could spend the night together. The you that would come over after class just for 45 minutes because it was worth it to spend even that little amount of time together. The you that was proud to have me by your side.

Not the you that would give me short winded answers when we talked, if we even talked at all. Or the you that didn’t even offer to pay for me when we went to diner. Or the you that filled my head and heart with empty promises. I don’t miss the you that told me we were “nothing”. Or the you that made me cry over the internal conflict I had about ending things because the you that I first met was the one I wanted to be with, not the you that you had become. I don’t miss the you that stopped trying; the you that didn’t fight for us. The one who let me go a little too easily. Or the one who kissed another girl right in front of my eyes after you had just kissed me in a way you had never kissed me before. Or the you that doesn’t answer, now, when I ask “how’s life?” I don’t miss the you that broke me. I miss the old you. I miss the you I fell head over heels for, someone entirely different that the you that I broke up with.