I Miss It

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
She is gone, but my heart beats on.

Submitted: October 02, 2014

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Submitted: October 02, 2014

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I miss it. I miss the second heartbeat that synchronized itself with mine. I miss the exhalation of breath that came forth when she laughed. I miss the warmth her hand gave mine as they held each other and swung with our steps. I miss the softness of her lips against mine as I could feel her feelings for me. I miss the car rides where we'd sing like there were no worries to be had. I miss the late nights we spent together, entangling ourselves within each other as we watched a movie. I miss the meticulous planning I did as I tried to figure out what would make this day special for her. I miss the sweet aroma that lingered on my clothes long after she had left. I miss the sadness I had when she was out of town. I miss the nights where I couldn't sleep because even my greatest dreams couldn't even compare to how I felt just thinking about her. I miss the inside jokes that we would whisper into each other's ears whenever we knew the other one needed to smile. I miss her presence, for just having her there made the heavens shine down. I miss all of these moments, but I do not miss the tears that were shed when we knew it was coming to an end. I do not miss the way my dreams betrayed me and left me with more heartache than I could handle. I do not miss that small voice in my head that told me that it would all work out. I do not miss the nights I would watch the ceiling fan spin knowing that it would continue on and our relationship would not. I do not miss the feeling that my heart was being carved in to. I do not miss the feeling of pure helplessness as it all came crashing down. I do not miss the feeling of entrapment as there was nothing I could do but watch. I do not miss the phone calls that had no emotion and were bitter cold. I do not miss any of these things, but the greatest thing I do not miss is the final hug we shared as she walked away with the blissful half of my heart. All of these things add up to the sadness that I feel because all of these things put together are what makes this part of my past a mere, hurtful tragedy. 


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