I miss you

Some thoughts on the concept

Image by Fran on Pixabay

Several dictionaries define “missing” as the feeling of sadness at the absence of that which is missed and the desire to have it. But when I was recently asked what I truly missed, I found that I wrote some things I didn’t particularly want back.

Aside from the obvious, like loved ones I’ve lost or am far away from, I realised I also missed:

• The selves I used to be. The various me’s whom I remember as if they were favourite characters from favourite stories: connected but not personally. From without, not within, I see them in my mind's eye living out those stories.
• The characters from past plays. The various actors — lead, supporting and minor — who made me laugh, cry, smile or frown. The moments that feel similar to how watching old episodes of Friends feels: the enjoyment of remembering with the familiarity of knowing how it all played out.
• Remembering how I used to think. Why I wrote certain things in my journals; what I found funny; what I loved and, especially, what drove the passionate, naive ideals I now see coming out in different forms in my daughter.
• The newness of things. My first overseas trip; my first car; my first job. My first love.

When I thought specifically about past relationships, it occurred to me that the deepest missing was often the poignant, beautiful feeling just before the awful, empty acceptance that tells you you no longer care.

I want to keep missing the people I love.