I miss those arguments;
The ones concerning freedom, choices and way of life.
I miss the wounds caused by your indifference,
For they were far better than the scars of these cloistered memories.
I miss the silence, the one that made me compare you to a certain Prime Minister.
I miss your lackadaisical indolence at my expressions,
For they were far better than not getting an opportunity to express at all.
I miss my anger, the harshness of my words,
The pain caused and the hurt inflicted.
For you survived it all and could still be called mine.
I miss seeing your name on my phone’s screen, that made the heart skip a beat.
For it was better than seeing anyone else’s name on the phone.
I miss my former self, the one I lost. My rules, my heart, my commitment, my passion.
For this impassive self is bereft of your presence.