What it feels like to miss you.

It didn’t come in like a wrecking ball, nor a tsunami of emotions. It wasn’t one of those over-dramatised drunken, rainy nights, alone.¬†There were people, lights, noise, action. Friends, laughter and food filled the room.

Yet somehow, it snucked in. Like a mangy, soggy cat with sad eyes on the aforementioned rainy night. And I, silly me, turned a blind eye thinking it was nothing.

It started with the small details – that earring that vaguely resembled an arrow, that sudden, barking laughter of amusement – right before the quiet, that silence in the storm of festivities, kicked in.

It, was there.

Gripping those memories in an unnoticed clenched fist.
Tasting the bitter bile in your throat, swallowing in vain.
Breathing through empty lungs, the occasional heartbeat skips.
Seeing flashes of colours, a unique essence, supposedly forgotten.
As the hurricane swept, memories flew. Friends, laughter and food.

WE were there. Once upon a time. We, us, in that world.

A sudden release – the hunger, the anger, the loss – this time like a wrecking ball and eventually, awareness. Ah, the sweet trigger of reality.

A sudden itch on the arm, a blast of cold air from the vent.
That heated argument in the corner of the room, the polite nods.
Feeling the needles on my soles, a dazed blink of an eye.
The recognition of frost on those summer days.

Noises, similar, but different, then and now. Friends, laughter and food.

I, am here. Now.

I still miss you, but once again, all is well.

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