I miss you.
I thought I was done missing you by now, but here I am again:
Wondering if you started to miss me, too.
And even if you do,
It'll never be as much as I tended (and still tend) to miss you,
And how we used to be –
As friends.
But this time when I miss you,
Or try to recreate what we had,
It feels different:
Not as intense.
I guess time did play a part in that,
As it usually does,
While another factor (and then some) came along for the ride:
One that I'll tell you all about someday when we're both ready,
One that left me numb to everything that I had – have – to face,
Including you.
While you – from afar – did somehow play a role,
With me wanting far more than what was within my reach –
For you literally were beyond my reach,
And your heart even farther beyond,
Wrapped around by another,
For years both seemingly strong and unshakable –
It's unfair of me to pin all of my troubles on you:
You weren't all to blame for what came of me, but what I felt for you –
Or at least what I needed from you –
And didn't get back, didn't help.
But I thought if that was what it had to be,
That we would have dreams that were too different,
With yours that would take you even farther away,
And we wouldn't meet for a long time –
From what you told me –
Then I guessed it was time to move on.
And slowly but surely,
Reluctantly, yet not entirely,
I did…
Just enough to miss you less and less,
And give up on that dream –
Until one night headed towards home not too long after,
You came back to me –
You, never having left at all –
Out of the blue, unexpected –
Much like how I first met you –
Though still entangled, now closer to me than you were for a long time,
Even if for less than a minute at a time.
It seemed like fate brought you back to me,
Possibly another chance,
Until things once again started to shift –
This time for me –
Things I can't really change,
At least not yet:
My own fate is untangling itself from yours, though I didn't – and still don't – want it to…
But for now, only you get to decide what happens now,
If you want to see me again other than the other way around,
And again, even if for less than a minute at a time…
However, throughout all of this, I've always wondered,
Always yearned but now only to a far much lesser degree:
That there's always been a small part of me that's just waiting…
Waiting –
Waiting that maybe someday I'll get that chance:
The chance I was too late to get –
When you opened that door in my life just when I missed yours –
The chance for you to see me the way I wanted you to see me.
There's always that one percent of yearning,
For someone truly special to deserve all that yearning, that love –
And yes, you do still deserve it –
And if I'm not careful, it will grow to a full five,
Or even 10…
I just hope that before it spills past 10,
That you can tell me:
Where in the world would there ever be someone like you?
Because your kind is the very hardest to find:
A true friend who found a way to be brighter than the sun and to lasso the moon with just a tug.
But this one would be unbound and open to something more –
With me –
One who's not going anywhere,
And willing to slowly but surely take away my less than 10%.
