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It's a feeling that she supposed she could get used to.

It's that feeling of not seeing him for a while. That space in between, a lag where the days seemed to have lost some of it's brightness. Even the blaze of summer days were just a bit less brighter.

Dull.

Monotonous.

Maybe she would eventually not even care about that space. It was now four days-surly they both could go much longer?

She missed him. He said he missed her. But eventually, the missing feeling would turn towards that dull ache, soon even that vanishing into yet another old wound.

She had survived before. Only a summer ago, she didn't even see him at all for the majority of the time. They weren't even together as a couple at the time.

But she still missed him.

Denied it. But still did.

It was in the littlest ways-seeing couples and wondering where he was. Seeing the things he enjoyed and musing over what he was doing at that very moment. Then it was that nagging longing that only made her feel that wash of regret. But that would soon go away until the next time she felt the pang rising up from seeing, hearing, touching, reminiscing.

She had missed him.

Even now, it was life coming to a gray crawl. She didn't want to miss him but going this long made her start to lose the vigor, the expectancy, the swell in her heart from the hope of seeing him smile. The smile that made everything right again, that was only for her. But to cling to even that to try and brighten her days hurt her.

She would get mad, throw fits, cry over not seeing him. Frustration would force her to lash out when she never meant to. It was a breaking point she'd rather not snap for fearing that she'd not want to even try and see him anymore. It's getting to that point.

Not even books, writing, drawing, computer use would drive the angst away. Always, without a doubt, her thoughts would always reroute themselves back to him. She hoped he was happy now-there was no waking moment she had that wasn't assailed by anything related to him.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, but this prolonged absence from his side was only making her more rebellious. Perhaps she should have stopped chasing him before it had gotten this far, where her heart would suffocate from lack of being around him. Perhaps missing this and being lonely would have been better. For lack thereof, however, in the end, she knows all that isn't true. Fate and destiny had linked them together even before they knew of each other.

She still missed him.

She was supposed to see him tomorrow. At a friends house. But she's leery of it, wary, an animal twice shy. Promises made have been broken before. And if anything, even if she did go, there would be a chance she'd hardly speak to him at all to drown herself in a video game she'd always wanted to play. Not like it would matter.

There'd still be that aching loneliness.

She is selfish, raw, sometimes cruelly defensive of her relationships. But the separation has taken it's toll-she has half stopped wishing for him. Half stopped looking forward to seeing him, being held again. Half stopped believing that he'll make things right for her and chase away all the doubts and fears.

She can't stand the distance, yet could care less anymore if it went on for a bit longer. It's starting to eat away at her heart, until she herself will become listless, gray, dull, numb.




She still misses him.