It is too early in the morning for me to be awake. The sun is still sleeping in the east, and I should be, too. Instead, I’m a thousand miles from anything I know and missing you.
A lot of times, when I miss someone it isn’t really them that I miss. It is who they were to me. I miss the boy that could make me laugh, or the one that always knew just how to cheer me up. I miss a friend I used to be able to talk about nothing with, before boys and life got in the way.
I miss their pieces of me more than them.
But you? You I would miss if I had never met you. If I didn’t know you, didn’t know the taste of your lips or the feeling of your arms around mine.
I know those things, so I miss you all the more. This hotel room is cold and empty without you. A space filled with temporary things. With people passing through but never staying, just another stop on the way to their real destination. (Any resemblance to my heart is strictly accidental)
This place would still be transitory with you in it. Even you don’t have the power to change the nature of a hotel. But it would be a transitory home instead of a room that wanted to go back to sleep.
And that’s what I miss. I miss that feeling that I had when I was with you, that feeling of home.
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