than missing a person you shared
a fraction of your life with.
And that is missing a person with
whom you did not.
For you will neither be allowed the
pleasure of their memory, the echo of
their love, the warmth of knowing
that once upon a time you meant a damn,
you were of some importance, you will
not even be allowed the small joy
of a smile that comes with happening
upon a note they once wrote you in
the bottom of your drawer.
It is a sort of hollow longing,
a dreadful nostalgia for a thing
that never quite happened.”
He could barely look at her so they sat in silence for a while.
And then abruptly, sometime between sunset and sunrise, he got up and left without a sound.
And she felt like crying because love was supposed to be enough to make someone stay, and she loved him more than she knew how. But her throat was dry and the only sound coming from her mouth was a half choke half hiccup which made her want to laugh.
So she cried a little and laughed a lot and her emotions were so tangled if someone asked how she felt there would be no valid answer.
"Everything." She whispered, "and nothing."
"I feel everything and nothing. And I only know that I want it all to stop for a while.
She paused. “A while, or perhaps forever.””