I miss you.
I can't speak of those words out loud, loud enough for you to hear. I must not. Guess what? Those words can never be heard from me, but they make me up, every single time. I miss you. Like the old song I've always wanted to listen to, only having no idea about it but it's rhythm and the lyrics "I love you" and "I miss you." At times, I would wonder if those really are from that song, or my mind just made them up because I really miss you. I miss you, like that certain feeling I get when I have been walking on a seemingly endless, empty road, waiting to be able to come home and lie on my bed. Damn. I can't think straight right now. I miss you and our stupid late night conversations, and coffee, and your geeky jokes, and everything, you. But you will never know. I won't ever speak about it. Not to you. I am a wounded soldier who had just gone from war. Sadly enough, I missed you and I miss you. But like the single dot on the night sky I won't even dare to touch, much less to reach for, I will miss you. Missing you goes together with the last beat of a song that has been replaced by another before it even gets fo finish, unheard but beating.