I feel empty without you.

I don’t mean this is the pseudo-romantic sense of ‘you complete me’ or ‘I feel whole now that you’re here.’  I’ve been there, done that, and this is far deeper than searching for fulfillment in the empty mason jars I’ve surrounded myself with.

I’ve grown so accustomed to sharing every joy, every laugh, every smile with you that without you here, it’s as though those things haven’t happened.  They don’t exist until I share them with you.

So to say such words - words thrown carelessly about as though they were water balloons flung on a hot summer day - means I’m simply an outline, walking through life, existing, experiencing, until my eyes meet yours and your voice envelopes me and your laugh adds hues and dimensions to my form.

I miss your color.  I miss the vibrance you give me.  I miss you.

Tagged:  words,   prose,  
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    I feel empty without you. I don’t mean this is the pseudo-romantic sense of ‘you complete me’ or ‘I feel whole now that...
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