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I keep wanting to tell you things.
That’s probably the stupidest part.
Nothing important, either. Just little things.
Something funny happens and for half a second I think I should send it to you. I hear a song you would probably make fun of and I want to know what you'd say. I see something in a shop and think you'd like it. Sometimes I even catch myself wondering how your day went.
Then I remember I don’t really have a reason to ask anymore.
And I hate that.
I thought missing someone was supposed to be about the big things. Missing their hugs, their voice, their presence.
Nobody really talks about missing someone in the middle of a completely normal Tuesday because you saw something dumb and they were the person you used to tell.
I think that’s what I miss most.
Having somewhere to put all the pointless little pieces of my day.
I don’t even know whether I miss you or I miss who I was when talking to you felt normal.
Maybe both.
I’m not sending this, obviously.
You don't need to know any of this.
I just wish I could stop having things I want to tell you.
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