Dear Happy Friend…

I miss you so much I swear. I miss the sounds of everything when we talked. I miss him, too. He watched and joked with us. It was like we were old friends from high school, catching up after years of carefree living.
But the memories of singing and sounds and talking and sitting and sleeping are all so vivid. They are so close I can see them without having to close my eyes.

His face.

Your face.

The way I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep if I thought of you in the middle of the night.
And all the car rides… And all the friends and laughs from the back of the car.

And your voice.

How I miss your voice. It’s like I can’t explain how much. I have missed harder–that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is I can’t explain how.

Most of all I think I miss seeing your face next to mine, over my left shoulder in the van.

I miss getting out and feeling elated. I miss her obsession over tiny things and the way we were all half-asleep for a whole week straight.
Because we sang and sang and sang and I’ve not sung louder since.
The week was magical and I loved spotting you across the room of thousands and then later catching you in the hallway without even trying.
And we would exchange phrases and smile. But not with deeper intentions–we just smiled. Good smiles.
And did I mention I miss your voice?
I miss you on the right and on the left of me and singing with you and how at first I thought you were so bad at it that you needed my help and then finding that it was the opposite and that I respected you all along.

You don’t say more than you mean and I don’t mean more than I say.

I just miss you.


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