I miss you.
I’d like to say those words to someone and mean it again. Not in an obsessed “I can’t live without you” kind of way, but in a way that means, “I care about you, and I wish you could be with me right now for this particular little adventure. It’s fun now, but it could be better with you around.” Not a lonely “I miss you,” but something richer.
What an odd concept. To miss missing someone.
Granted, I am still not quite sure if I can afford any more of my trust to any one single man. I would like to, but he should probably prove trustworthy first before we move into this “I miss you” business.
But, I hope I can give someone that trust. I hope I can soon. It’s been a long journey over the years through dysfunction and abuse of trust. I just want something good, something real, something mutually and wholly wonderful. And I believe I deserve that. (He deserves it, too.)
Because I’d like to know that all that missing eventually leads to a great big bear hug and that ever-present short girl dream of happily snuggling my face into that man’s chest. And hopefully it comes together with me finally saying, “I missed you,” in that muffled voice that only turns up when I refuse to move my face from that aforementioned chest.
I deserve to be with someone I miss. And the perfect partner deserves to be missed by me.