To miss is to feel a bond to something that used to be within arm’s length but is now just a figment of your imagination, a point of desire. Remnants of what once was. To miss is experiencing the emotion of having something and it being taken away from you. To miss is to hope that that entity will return once more to you.
I miss you. I miss the glitter in your eyes, the concern in your voice. Your gentle laugh at my mishaps and tantrums. I miss the lightness I feel in my soul when you’re around. How I could simply exist without the urge to be anywhere else but present in your presence in peace.
But under it all, remains an incessant nagging that tugs at my soul, that gets louder and louder as every tick of the clock brings me closer and closer to departure. Reminding me, that all we have is time. My longing for you begins even before you drop me off to the gate. I miss you, and you haven’t even left.
I’m scared of when those memories cannot be remade, when these experiences will cease to be renewable resources. When the
reserve cannot be filled because you are no longer here.
Sometimes I think I’ve become desensitized to the emotion, to the feeling of missing you. But all it takes is a simple photo, a scent that reminds me of your shirt, a recipe you taught me coming to light, and the vividness
of the emotion arises once more.
I miss you.
I will always miss you, even when you are here with me. Because then I hold on a little tighter. Breathe a little slower. Steal every second to be with you for a little bit longer. Because I know what comes when I leave.
Faizah Shareef, M4 at Boston University School of Medicine.
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