I miss getting letters

from my friends

those rambling stories

daily accounts

made just for me

 

I miss her goofiness

her stare of concentration

even that stubborn inability

to listen to a word I am saying

I hope these traits have not gone away

 

I miss him

even though he is

down the hall

in the other room

he is no longer here

 

I miss those things that happened

and then weren’t anymore

I miss those things that

almost happened

but didn’t quite take hold

 

I miss the excitement I felt

18 months ago

I miss curling up on his chest

not knowing that my dreams

were a lie

 

I miss getting letters

from my friends

letters in stamped white or perhaps

purple or blue envelopes

in their handwriting

 

I miss being able to cry