The words used in our last meeting flash in my head a few months too late. I feel the desolation. The shame. The guilt. The emptiness. The absence of comfort.
Months too late. Always months too late.
I feel the pangs I never let myself feel.
I feel the neediness I never let reach me.
Tonight, I’m missing you. And all we were.
(Because it’s true… that without you I’m nothing.)