Missed.

I miss...

Us. Together.

But I don't. I really don't.

How can I miss us without missing you?

I feel like...

Like I should miss you.

I miss being with you.

But not

You.

I miss feeling your hand in mine.

I miss the feeling I got

When you pressed your lips to mine.

Is that wrong?

I miss the presence but not the person.

We all know

Us

Was a mistake.

That much was evident.

But I gained from that mistake.

I gained knowledge.

I gained friends.

I gained emptiness

That comes from having someone

And losing them.

Our Us was like a child's phase.

It didn't last long...

And it was a good thing.

I miss your lips on mine.

How I long to be kissed again!

How I miss the feeling in the pit of my stomach

Of being connected to someone like that.

Looking into your eyes...

That's what broke Us.

That's what made our entire togetherness

Become something to be changed.

It's what tore me away from you.

Eyes, windows to the soul.

Yours and mine weren't compatible.

There was no Us after that.

I miss Us.

But I don't miss you.

I am a terrible person for that.

Forgive me.

I don't know how I've gotten on this long

Without the forgiveness of that.

That's what this is about...

Not missing Us.

It's about not missing you

And the forgiveness I crave.

To The Moon

Bright

Shining above me

Luminescent ball of hope

Spreading light on good and evil alike

Lighting the paths in

The darkest hours

Friend

Of shadows and men

Giving the world a soft gleam

Smiling down on the sleeping souls here

Shading a few but

Enlightening others

O Moon!

You light these pages

As my pen darkens them

You light my path as my feet cover it

You see us all at our

Weakest hour

Shine

Through my broken window

Through my shattered pain

Through my life's deceiving mask

Through my troubled sleep

Through my night

Light

My coming dreams

This twisted path of thought

The days drag on but nights are short

When you shine down the darkness's

Menacing face fades

To My Friends :)

So having your wisdom teeth taken out does things to you. Let me tell you, painkillers are WEIRD. They make me tired and wired and itchy and hot and restless all at the same time. Man, I could sleep forEVER. Or at least that's what I say. Last night was a bit rough, though.

Being awake at 3 in the morning makes you think. You probably know this. Gosh, I so badly wanted to write, but I was shaking and in pain and I just couldn't get myself out of my warm bed. So here's what I remember from my restlessness last night:

1. I miss my friends. :)

2. I never want to have oral surgery EVER again.

3. My cheeks are more puffy than a chipmunks. No, sorry, no pictures.

4. I miss writing, and even when I feel this bad, I want to all the time.

5. Being tired all the time provides ample opportunity for awesome, book-inspiring dreams.

6. As much as I hate stress, I really do love school.

7. I am a procrastinator, and I forgot to bring a couple assignments home with me.

8. Netflix is the best thing ever if you feel like this.

That's about all I can remember. But yeah...

I am inspired by you guys. Thanks for keeping me in your prayers this week. I love you!

Also, Zephaniah 3:17.

Just Letters

Dear X,

I have decided that you are my inspiration. My hero. You are the person that, right now, I most want to be like. Your life was so full, so wonderful! So complete, and you were so young. Almost as young as I am now. And yet, you did so much. I look up to you, now in more than one way.

But I have a secret to tell you. I am not like you, not at all. At least, I don't think I am. I am quiet around people I don't know well. I am shy at times. Other times, I talk too much. You were so great around everyone. Everyone that knew you loved you so much. You were a light to all those lost in the dark, shining so brightly, pointing them in the right direction, just as a lighthouse guides ships safely to shore. I want to be like you. Help me? Send me advice and wisdom from where you are!

I know that you can't really do anything to help me in the physical sense, but you are driving me to more than what I was before. This past week, I have accomplished so much. Yet there is still so much lacking! I have so many things I want to do with my life, but I either don't know how to begin, don't want to, or simply can't without something more.

So. You are my personal 'trainer.' Or, you are in a way. You are my conscience, in a way, my accountability coach with the things I want to accomplish. You are the one that I will tell things to. Not just little things that I want everyone else to know, too, but important things, things that matter to me. And I know just where to start.

This is going to be an amazing journey for me, and I will always remember you through this.

Love,

M

Letters From M

Dearest X,

I miss you entirely. There is something pulling at my heart every time I see a picture of you. Your face, your eyes; these are the only images I see, even when I look at someone else. My heart pulls me toward you but oh! my head, my mind, tells me to turn and run in the opposite direction. My eyes are filled with the overwhelming feelings that run through me. My blood pulses in my veins when I hear your name, and my heart quickens, but my mind runs in reverse.

Will I ever be able to put my heart and mind on the same track? I doubt this even as I wish it with all of my being. Perhaps this wish will be the only thing that I agree with my self on. This thought saddens me, but I feel that it is true. I wish you were the one to put them straight, but when you walk--toward me or away--my feelings and my thoughts scream at each other.

So here is what I will do. I will not write any longer. Oh, X, you know how I wish I could send you this letter, and the others I have written. But I cannot. These pages, this ink, will never see the inside of an envelope. They will remain in my hands. Locked in my desk, where they are safe, they will gather dust.

Maybe one day, when I am old and wise, I will open these letters and read them again. Maybe I will see whatever it is that I am missing now. Maybe I will see the truth to this entire situation. Will I be wrong in what I do? Or will I consider myself to be wise when I look back?

These are the mysteries only time can reveal. For now, though, I must lock away the letters and bury my pen.

Goodbye, X.

Love,

M

Letters To You

Dearest X,

Perhaps by now you know my intentions. Perhaps by now you know that I truly wish that you could know me just by seeing me. I wish that all it took was one look to see into my soul and my mind. I wish that I did not have to say these words, or even pen them.

But, as you have already figured out, I cannot do this. These wishes are empty, full of holes, and worthless to all but me. They will forever be my wish; every time I see a shooting star. Every time I blow out candles on a cake, or find a genii. It will remain with me till the day I die.

If only, if only, that is all I can think. I do not know if you will ever realize what I truly mean when I say what I do. I will never know if you realize that the way you look makes me stop and stare, holding my breath, wishing you would look back and realize what I realized so long ago. I wonder if you will ever truly see me.

But perhaps I already know the answer.

Love,

M

Letters To Someone

Dearest X,

White pages stare at me. I know that I must tell you what I hold in me. Let me explain my feelings--this thing I hold is a secret to me. There are two kinds of secrets; those that one does not want to tell, and those that one does not dare to tell. I do not dare let this secret escape, or else I will never see it come home again. And yet, I want to let it go. It weighs me down. I feel waves crashing around me, and the longer I sit here, holding this enormous truth, the higher the waves lash. They are so close to my head, so close to drowning me altogether. Let me impart this secret to you--oh! But never give it away!

This unspoken thing is a part of me. It wraps around my heart, my lungs, my brain. It protects them, yes, but it also puts so much pressure on them that they are numb and cold. I no longer think about this secret. I no longer feel its importance--except when I am around you. Then, the secret shrinks, tightening in my chest until I can't breathe and my heart must race to my recovery.

If only you could know what I wish to tell you without me saying a word. If only you would look in my eyes and pull the secret from their depths. I want to be rid of it--but I want it to stay close. I can think of no better captain on my sinking ship than you. You would pull me upright, and perhaps we could sail on as if nothing had ever happened. Oh, if only. How can my heart be in my throat and on my sleeve at one time? You must help me. I need you to save me from drowning in this!

Love,

M

Letters To No One

Dearest X,

It is with trembling hands and heart that I write this. I know what I must say, and yet I cannot. The words are pushing through the barrier of my teeth, biting my lips. They want out more strongly than any words I have said before. And yet, I know that if I let these words out, I also let out my tears, and I open the floodgates that lead to my heart. I am most vulnerable at this point; with my heart on my sleeve and my head in my hands.

But still the blank pages beckon to me, calling me on. I know that by now you are long gone, too far for me to reach. Still I will write to you. I do not expect a response. I never have, not from you who have been gone so long. I only with that I could hear your voice one last time. Let me know that you listen, and these words will flow out of my mouth with the eloquence of angels.

Perhaps I will have mustered the strength I know is necessary--which I do not currently posses--by the time I next sit at my writing desk and pick up my pen. Until then, I cannot bring myself to the point of vulnerability which I know must come eventually. I shall write again.

Love,

M