I Miss You

I felt numb today.

Not physically numb. Well, maybe a little bit cause I was exhausted, but no. I was just... numb.

The things I saw that usually made me feel something - happiness, sadness, anger, anything - were now just... things.

I didn't know what happened. I thought it was a good thing. I thought I was on my way to be free of this glass dungeon that I didn't know I was trapped in at the start.

But that's exactly why I hate not being busy. Once I'm done with my work for the night and I'm lying in the dark, trying to sleep in silence, I stay up. And I think. And when I think, I don't stop until I feel so bad that I just sleep it off.

That happened again tonight. But it was a little different. I went past the point of feeling bad and instead of going back to sleep, I thought more. That's when the realization hit me.

I miss him.

I just miss that stupid annoying idiot.

It's not even the "I miss you" in a lovey-dovey, clingy sense that I usually feel. It's just "I miss you" as a friend, as a person I really care about and love spending time with.

I miss the old "us", before all the teasing and the malice and the... complications. I miss being able to start conversations without it meaning more than just me wanting to talk to you. I miss picking on you and you teasing me back. I miss our inside jokes and our similarly strange sense of humor. I miss bonding with you over weird things on the internet. I miss ranting to you and us mildly backstabbing people we both dislike. I miss intelligently debating and also nonsensically laughing with you. I miss talking to you about anything and everything and you being able to keep up. I miss completely being myself around you and feeling so comfortable when you were around.

I remember I even told you I thought you were the guy version of me and you agreed that I was the girl version of you. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like you.

We really had something special, you know? As friends. As really, really good - no, great friends.

Now, I don't know if we'll ever get that back.

Magically changing my reference from the third to the second person,
Louise