I Miss You, And I Never Even Had You; Guy's Version

I lay on my bed thinking of you now. I lay still in my bed, trying not to fall asleep, crossing the barrier from “awake” to “dreaming”. I listened to sad, heartbreaking music, all about missing someone, someone that get away, someone they had once loved. "What is the word for missing someone, for knowing there is something missing from you because they are not there, when you have never had them to begin with? Does that word exist?"

I touched your hand, trying to hold it. I don’t think you know I did, but I felt it. It’s little things like this that I miss, the tiny bits that make up a whole imagined life, something we could have had, if we were two different people.

Sometimes I stare at you, and I wonder what you are thinking. You have these soft, kind loving eyes, and sometimes I imagine that they are only this way with me, but I know that can’t be true. I am sure that you look at me just like you look at everyone else; captivating, smart, but ultimately uninterested. I can’t stand to keep looking at you for too long, to meet that gaze, because I always feel speechless.

When I am thinking of you, I try not to think of my own look. It’s hard not to wonder, just like we all do, if it isn't about the way I look. If I was just this much better looking, much funnier, or smarter, would I have had you? Would you look at me differently? It’s easy to hate yourself when you don’t have something you want, when you are looking for any fault to blame it on. But I suspect that if I were just a notch or so better, all of this would be easier. You would have to think of me, too.

But I don’t think of my physical so much, or yours, for that matter. I think of teasing you, mostly. I think of sitting with you at dinner, talking with you childishly, watching movies and trying to prolong our outings. I think of all the things we could have done, the places we could have gone. I wonder if I would have loved them that much more because I was there with you.

Of course, maybe you’re not so perfect, when one gets to know you. Maybe you don’t live up to my expectations. It’s always possible that the version of you I've built in my mind is nothing like the real you, and maybe that’s why I love missing you so much. It’s easy to miss someone when all we have is imagination, and all we have to confront is what we've created in our minds. There are no fights, no long silences, no nights where we don’t touch each other because we’re too tired or too angry.

But I want it all. I want it with you. I want to hear your voice and see you and feel you against me, to hold you close to me, to kiss you once more. And I know that I likely never will, and I miss it. I miss it as acutely as if I’d had it, in the way you miss the big tree behind a childhood home, or a friend who moved away and never quite stayed in touch. I miss you so much it hurts.

I miss you, and I never had you.

Disclaimer: Apology for the plagiarism. This is how I feel but not in my original words. Please find the original article at:

http://thoughtcatalog.com/charlotte-green/2014/03/i-miss-you-and-i-never-even-had-you/#eC3FGqrVtMvOMFkJ.01