I am trying and trying at building up a tolerance for missing you
I miss you just about every other moment that you’re gone
that’s a lot of moments
and I wonder:
how did I survive these years before meeting you
before knowing you
because
of course I missed you all my life
I just didn’t know who “you” would be
I missed you just about every other moment before meeting you, too
I could feel the absence in my heart of your love in my life
but now that you’re here the lack is gone, and
missing you has become delicioussour, sweetbitter like saltwater, like something pickled, like the big sudden stretch of my back muscles in the morning, like the shiver that goes down my spine when I am tickled. Missing you feels something strange, missing you is that fifth taste that’s hard to describe but obvious, a contradiction of coming together
my heart is
no longer just empty now it is half empty, and half full, the emptiness providing room to breathe and space to play, the fullness is kissing you and taking you upstairs and your taking my hand and looking back at me as you decide to love me, yet again
I love you
moment over moment
missing you is the shadow, but now I see the not-shy morning sun rising into my new day, and you are the object creating the shadow
and I can not wait for our love to have the gift of time, and of place, and to increase in breadth even as it deepens.
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