I Miss You

For D.

I miss you.

I miss you, and the sad part is that you are right there.

 

 

I’ve heard you can’t miss somebody when they are still around, but that isn’t true.

I see you run in the door, drop your backpack and leave.

I see you stay out until I go to bed, doing things I could never understand.

After all, I’m only the younger sister.

 

I miss you, and you are right here.

 

I didn’t see for two days last week, and I have not seen you yet today.

 

I miss you, but I don’t think you miss me.

 

I was always there and always have been.

 

Three years, Three months, Three days, and a matter of hours never seemed to long until now.

Until the doors of a high school seemed to mock me, and the words “Senior” and “Freshmen”.

You bought a new Xbox, a few years back, and our old Wii controllers gather dust.

Sadly you only have one controller for this new game, and I watch you play, an outcast yet again.

I try to remember times when we actually hung out and didn’t tramp around each other awkwardly.

It is hard, that is true, but I can still remember a time when I didn’t miss you.

 

Our “Olympics” in a blow-up pool, sticks that were trusty swords, the “stew” made out of moss and tree bark, our secret jokes, the plays we would put on (Robin Hood, etc.), the advice I gave you on girls when you were eleven, and the map I sketched out of a certain girls habits.

 

I miss you, and the sad part is: You are right there.

 

In the kitchen at night, when you open the fridge looking for snacks, I pass by on my way to bed. I whisper, “Goodnight, love you.”

“Uh, goodnight batch.”

Your old nicknames rings around the night silence, and I always wonder if you remember the other ones you use to call me.

It is comforting to hear a nickname, one that you never fail to call me even if we never really talk.

You’ve never called me by my real name, and I never want you to.

I know I miss you, but somehow you calling me my nickname makes it better.

 

Growing up is an odd thing, you never realize you are doing it until you find yourself changing.

Good or bad.

I miss you, and I feel like you changed in an odd-good\bad way.

 

 

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