Missing you is like putting together the pieces of a puzzle without a picture to guide me... I don’t know why or how some things remind me of you, but the thought of you just fits into their edges and grooves like a well-synchronised gadget. I can go for days and weeks without even feeling your existence or remembering the taste of your skin, but then all of a sudden, it comes back to me like muscle memory. And I find that I can’t extricate myself from that sweet web of my desire for you. I spin around and upside down finding you in the corners as well as the core. You wash over me like gentle rain until the hours turn into minutes and then all it takes is a second to jolt me back to the reality of my situation... You left me standing in the middle of a busy street on a January afternoon and never returned. And I’ve spent the better part of an entire year mentally trying to cross that street. Now I don’t know if the next time we meet will be just as devastating or even worse. Because when I watched the love leaving your eyes that winter afternoon, I was also witnessing the burial of my dreams.