My Girl - The Temptations

There's a piece of you in every song I listen to. There's a piece of you in every hand that grasps my body and brings it closer to theirs. There's you at night and in the early mornings, and I miss you for that. I miss seeing your face at night and listening to voice before bed.

There's you in the night of my birthday, when you told me that I was your favourite person, and I told you, kind of scared and confused and hesitant, that you were mine too. There's you in the streets where you held my hands and there's you in the places where I used to think about how nice it was having someone like you next to me, in my life, in love with me.

I miss you for that and for being silly and for your laugh and for your smile. I miss you for being awesome. I fell for you and never quite returned, mostly because I liked you and because I still do. Because I think I never got to tell you that I needed you and that I wanted to do things right so that we could both share this life together. I think that I still need you, some days I still think I do. I know it's not true, though. I know I don't need you, I definitely don't, but I wish I kinda did so that all of this longing would go away and I could simply try with all my desire to bring you back to my life.

I tried, fogetting you and getting over you, but I couldn't, not yet. But still, I try, and whenever I see your silly little frown in my mind, I smile and give thanks that you were in my life once because I feel like fucking loving you for the rest of my life, and I don't want to erase you from my memories, I simply want to allow myself to love more, and love others, and fall harder for the new wonderful people in my life. 

The other day, when him and I were laying in bed, cuddling and listening to soft tunes we both cherished -and that were the only data points that deeply connected us-, your song started to play. I smiled and hid my face in his neck, he laughed and told me that he really liked that song, and I told him it was one of my favourites. We then danced to it, and I kind of wished you would appear there, but for some reason, I couldn't picture your face, or your hands, or your entire self at all. I kind of wished I could see you again. I am not even sure why, maybe because I want to make sure I am not crazy and that you are real. Maybe if I see you being a real human being, I will remove this semi-divine ideal I've built up around your memory.