I want you to miss me.
I want you to recognise me in your morning cereal and the voice of your favourite singer.
I want you to wonder where I am when your fingers are stretched beneath your waistband, when you’re lighting up, when you’re tripping up that uneven step on your basement stairs.
I want you to think of me when you look into your teacup and your rear-view mirror.
I want you.
People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
But sometimes..
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up..
And the smell of dusty sunlight and early gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know
what to do with your hands !!
— Rosie Scanlan “On Missing Them”
