I miss you so much

don’t you miss me, too?
Aren’t there a hundred and one things that happen during the day, that you want to share only with me?
I didn’t think our story had an end.

What were we? Was it an us or was it a fever dream of becoming and blossoming? Arriving at my womanhood through you, I learned my yeses and my nos, and when to use them. I drowned when I knew how to swim, and after the life was lost, I could never look at that chapter again.

It wasn’t until you broke my heart that I could empathize with how I must’ve hurt you. When I pushed you away, I didn’t know the harm it would cause. I didn’t know that space between could never be recovered no matter how deeply I pulled you into me.
We were lost. Broken in irrecoverable ways. Still, the timbre of your voice put a heartbeat in my thighs. Without question if you called, I would come. When I look at you, I see the son I always wanted. I hear my daughter’s voice. To me they are happy daydreams and for you, a nightmare. If I could love you past the pain, know that I would. Know that I have tried.

Run away with me. To me. For me. I have to fight back the words when we speak. In me, you arouse a sense of care and softness. A texture that I so rarely feel in my skin. You are my shelter and refuge; I want to be yours. I could…if you would just—run away with me. For me. To me…

I could feel the desire in the way your eyes met mine and refused to look away. I love how I look in your eyes. Captivating. Though I knew no amount of longing and lust could sustain us.
I’m looking forward to exploring the boundaries of the unknown with you. Lost in the reflection of my skin in your eyes. I like who I am on you.

My love is endless. Despite my own wishes. If I loved you once, I always will. Except the one. Wilted sunflowers. That line is poisoned and I have no desire to see it revived.

Love letters to the men in my heart, I wonder will they know?