atlanta, she wrote

When you were a consistent part of my life – that was the first time I’ve ever felt any sense of peace.  The nights when I heard your voice were the only nights I can remember sleeping without having nightmares, or disturbing dreams about twisted realities.  Hearing your voice, and opening myself up to you was like a concentrated version of the feeling the ocean has always given me.

You were my ocean.

You were my ocean.  And like water, you were consistent, and soothing, and strong, and unbelievably beautiful.  And you made me feel all of those things, for the first time in my life.

But, I wonder where the fire was.  Would I feel it if I touched your face?  Would I feel it if your hand were to rest on the small of my back?  Would we have found a way to entwine water and fire?

I don’t know.

L told me that I deserve ecstatic happy, not just the peace that you brought me.  But how do I know you couldn’t have brought me ecstatic happy?  How do I know that if I were to breathe your air, touch your face, and feel your hand on my back, that I wouldn’t be ecstatically happy?

I don’t know.

And not knowing, is killing me.

I miss your voice.  I miss your laugh.  I miss your strength.  I miss your understanding.  I miss your wisdom.  I miss the happiness you held in the smallest things.  I miss hearing your smile.  I miss the feeling in the pit of my stomach when your name popped up on my caller id.

I miss you.

I just, fucking miss you.