The Way Things Used to Be

I miss you, or maybe more specifically, I miss when I didn’t have to miss you. I’ve always found it sort of funny how someone can go from a total stranger to your best friend overnight. Talking to you came as naturally as breathing. I never had to think about it, and I never felt like I couldn’t just be myself. I was surprised at how comfortable it felt hanging out with you, at how effortless conversations were. For a while, you were the first person I said good morning to, and the last person I said goodnight to. I suppose when you spend all of your free time with someone, getting at least slightly attached to them is inevitable. I never planned on getting so used to your company, but I did.

Now, I'm left missing the way things used to be. I miss the late nights sitting out under the stars. We used to do that every night. It never failed to make me smile when I got a message from you about how you could see the stars. Such a simple thing, but it meant the world to me that you always remembered how much I loved the night sky. I miss sitting and talking as we were finishing up homework or doing crosswords together. Sometimes we sat not really doing anything, but just being out there together was all I needed. I’ve always loved the stars but looking at them with you was entirely different. I even miss the cloudy nights, when there were no stars out, but we still looked. We had a lot of conversations on those nights. There was a lot to be said when the rest of the world was quiet, and it was just us. The way we could talk about everything and nothing all at once.

I miss going on random drives because there was not much else to do in a small town. We went to the store occasionally, but most of the time just drove with no destination in mind. It was something to do when we had nothing else. It may not be the most practical, we went through a lot of gas on those drives, but I looked forward to it. I miss the warmer weather. When you would come visit me as I sat outside every night and read. Even if it was only for five minutes, the gesture meant a lot. I especially miss the walks at the park. Whether we were walking through the river to see a waterfall, or on a trail looking for bones, or throwing rocks into the water, I always enjoyed those walks.

I know that I tend to be fairly pessimistic when it comes to relationships. I’ve been wrong about people enough to know better than to assume they’ll always stick around. But I had really hoped you would, and for a little while I truly thought you might. Now I’m not exactly sure what we’re doing. We still talk, but barely. Our replies are less frequent, and we rarely go out and do stuff together in person anymore. I wish I could say I knew what happened. That I could pinpoint the exact moment things started to go wrong. If I could, maybe I could fix it. Because no matter how long it’s been since we talked, I still care a lot about you. I always want the best for you, and I genuinely hope you’re doing well. But I miss the friendship we had. The nights when we couldn’t sleep so we talked instead. Every drive we took just for the sake of doing something. Every star we saw, every constellation we recognized. I miss all of it so much more than I really know how to put into words. But most of all, I miss not having to miss you.