Imprinted

It’s like sitting in your favorite chair for 10 years straight. You love that chair;  you have this crazy history of good times and not-so-great times. But it’s still yours. So, eventually you have to get up and when you finally do you look back and see you’ve left an imprint… It’s perfectly shaped to you, only you can fill the void left in the chair.

You see in this story, I am the chair.. slowly trying to fill the dents in my cushions left by you going away. But try as I might I can’t do it on my own, I’m getting cold and the time has taken its told on my ability to do this independently. So here I am waiting for you to return so I can once again feel whole.

I. Miss. You.

Have you ever missed someone? Of course you have. Who hasn’t? But I’m talking about a nagging pain that is with you, constantly, every moment, every day, buried so deep within you that you think your heart is breaking from the want, no, the need to see and touch that person. Have you ever missed someone like that? When one moment you are fine and the next moment you’re picking yourself off the ground wiping your eyes and wondering how long you were down there…

I taught myself to tie my own shoes. I organized my own diaper bag. From birth I’ve been nothing but independent. This wanting, this needed of another person is completely foreign to my memory. I can’t recall a time where I needed anything like this. The worst part is I didn’t realize everything was going to be this hard.. waking up, going to the store, driving. I’m constantly reminded of you and therefore constantly reminded of the gaping whole you left inside me when you went away.

This whole experience is so juvenile to me. I feel foolish. Stupid. Yet, at the same time that I’m crying and cursing your name, I know this is one of the most important things I’ve done this far in my life. And for that, I feel accomplished. Beautiful. Silly as it may be, I am finally feeling what it is to feel and all I can say is.. Thank you; but I still miss you.