Missing Him
As she remembers how she had gazed into his eyes, his beautiful, blueish-green eyes, she feels her heart fill with a painful sadness. It comes to her like a violent kick in the guts: the realisation that there is very little chance of such a perfect moment being relived - and the same goes for the countless other perfect moments she'd shared with him. Her mind is a blur of memories, constantly skipping from one to the other, so quickly that it's almost impossible for her to focus.
The butterflies in her stomach as his hand randomly grabbed hold of hers while they wandered an empty street late at night. The sound of his giggle when he caught her in his arms after she'd stumbled goofily over a low wall. The teasing tone in his voice as he mocked her silly choice of phrases. The feel of his lips against hers when he kissed her for the first time... She feels her stomach somersault sharply, and curls herself up even tighter, her arms wrapping around her legs.
She often looks back on those memories fondly, despite the fact that they were so long ago. Granted, all of it only spanned a couple of months and there were the odd metaphorical slaps-in-the-face - hell, she almost lost a friendship completely because of it - but she sometimes misses how content she was in those moments with him.
She remembers how the 'too good to be true' worries had been embedded in the back of her mind at the time, and how her heart had sunk when those worries were proved to be right. There was a time when she thought she was over it, and that any kind of feelings she might have had were long gone. She was able to have the odd joke with him over social media without over-thinking it, and that was enough. But ever since she started talking to him regularly again, it seems that some of the old fondness has come flooding back, which has confused her slightly, and led to the occasional mental replay of old times with him.
Her reminiscent nature is sometimes like a curse to her, and her imagination isn't much better. She's come to the conclusion that they're possibly to blame for the foul mood she's been in for the past week, alongside the harsh reality check. Either that, or they were just triggered by the foul mood - it's a little hard to tell...
She frowns, berating herself for being silly and shaking her head a little before settling it back on her pillow. She realises how stupid she's being, and how a third-party onlooker could interpret her as being obsessive, but she knows that won't stop her.
She's had the stern 'Snap Out Of It' talk with herself so many times before, but she's always managed to just circle back to how she's feeling now. She just can't help but crave the moments that she misses. Most of all, she can't help but miss his company. Just being around him; the two of them getting drunk and playing pool at the pub with their friends; the comfort she took in being able to speak to him so honestly without worrying, and the knowledge that he felt equally comfortable having those chats with her. God, how she misses that - she always worries about what she says to him now.
Yes, she is grateful they still talk, but sometimes she feels like that is all it will ever be now, though maybe that is for the best. She thinks about some of their recent conversations and cringes, wondering if she will ever be able to go a day without making herself look like a twat. She knows the answer to that is no, especially considering the fact that she's having all of these thoughts in the first place.
She's always known that she thinks too much about everything though, and often wishes that she wasn't connected with her emotions quite as strongly as she is, because perhaps things would be simpler that way. She worries that this particular personality trait could potentially scare people away, and lead to them perceiving her as clingy. Maybe it would be easier if she could just switch it off - or at least just turn it down a little.
Because, through it all, she just wishes she could spend time with him without it seeming weird, and without it seeming like she wants any more. If she's completely honest with herself, she would be completely happy just chilling out with him: drinks in hand, music playing, smiles on faces. That would be more than enough for her.
After the wake-up calls and aside from the distant memories, the long-ago touches and the flown-away butterflies, there's one feeling she's always left with. She just misses him.
She rolls over on her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulder and wiping the wetness from her eyes with the tips of her fingers.
The butterflies in her stomach as his hand randomly grabbed hold of hers while they wandered an empty street late at night. The sound of his giggle when he caught her in his arms after she'd stumbled goofily over a low wall. The teasing tone in his voice as he mocked her silly choice of phrases. The feel of his lips against hers when he kissed her for the first time... She feels her stomach somersault sharply, and curls herself up even tighter, her arms wrapping around her legs.
She often looks back on those memories fondly, despite the fact that they were so long ago. Granted, all of it only spanned a couple of months and there were the odd metaphorical slaps-in-the-face - hell, she almost lost a friendship completely because of it - but she sometimes misses how content she was in those moments with him.
She remembers how the 'too good to be true' worries had been embedded in the back of her mind at the time, and how her heart had sunk when those worries were proved to be right. There was a time when she thought she was over it, and that any kind of feelings she might have had were long gone. She was able to have the odd joke with him over social media without over-thinking it, and that was enough. But ever since she started talking to him regularly again, it seems that some of the old fondness has come flooding back, which has confused her slightly, and led to the occasional mental replay of old times with him.
Her reminiscent nature is sometimes like a curse to her, and her imagination isn't much better. She's come to the conclusion that they're possibly to blame for the foul mood she's been in for the past week, alongside the harsh reality check. Either that, or they were just triggered by the foul mood - it's a little hard to tell...
She frowns, berating herself for being silly and shaking her head a little before settling it back on her pillow. She realises how stupid she's being, and how a third-party onlooker could interpret her as being obsessive, but she knows that won't stop her.
She's had the stern 'Snap Out Of It' talk with herself so many times before, but she's always managed to just circle back to how she's feeling now. She just can't help but crave the moments that she misses. Most of all, she can't help but miss his company. Just being around him; the two of them getting drunk and playing pool at the pub with their friends; the comfort she took in being able to speak to him so honestly without worrying, and the knowledge that he felt equally comfortable having those chats with her. God, how she misses that - she always worries about what she says to him now.
Yes, she is grateful they still talk, but sometimes she feels like that is all it will ever be now, though maybe that is for the best. She thinks about some of their recent conversations and cringes, wondering if she will ever be able to go a day without making herself look like a twat. She knows the answer to that is no, especially considering the fact that she's having all of these thoughts in the first place.
She's always known that she thinks too much about everything though, and often wishes that she wasn't connected with her emotions quite as strongly as she is, because perhaps things would be simpler that way. She worries that this particular personality trait could potentially scare people away, and lead to them perceiving her as clingy. Maybe it would be easier if she could just switch it off - or at least just turn it down a little.
Because, through it all, she just wishes she could spend time with him without it seeming weird, and without it seeming like she wants any more. If she's completely honest with herself, she would be completely happy just chilling out with him: drinks in hand, music playing, smiles on faces. That would be more than enough for her.
After the wake-up calls and aside from the distant memories, the long-ago touches and the flown-away butterflies, there's one feeling she's always left with. She just misses him.
She rolls over on her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulder and wiping the wetness from her eyes with the tips of her fingers.