I miss you.

Sometimes I wonder what you’re doing at this exact moment.

Not in the grand, life-changing sense. Just… right now.

Are you making coffee before work? Are you driving with one hand on the steering wheel, singing to songs I would’ve teased you for? Are you laughing at something so ordinary that you don’t even realize it would’ve been my favorite sound in the world?

I wonder who you’ve become since the version of you I knew.

What heartbreaks have found you? Which dreams survived? Which ones quietly died?

What parts of yourself did life soften, and what parts did it harden?

What battles did you fight without anyone knowing?

What nights did you convince yourself you’d make it through, even when you weren’t sure you would?

I wonder if you’ve become the person you always hoped to be…

Or if you’re still searching, just like I am.

Sometimes I catch myself staring out my window when the world has finally gone quiet. The streetlights glow, the wind moves through the trees, and for a moment it feels like the whole universe is holding its breath.
And I wonder…

Are you looking out your window too?

Do our thoughts ever collide somewhere between the stars without either of us knowing?

Does my name ever wander into your mind without permission?

Do certain songs still make your chest ache?

Do places we’ve never been together somehow remind you of me?

Or have I become nothing more than a passing season?
A chapter you’ve finished.

A photograph tucked away in a drawer you haven’t opened in years.

Maybe I’ve become what the wind becomes after it leaves your skin.

You know it touched you once.
You just can’t remember exactly how it felt.

That’s the strangest part about losing someone.
You never really stop knowing them.

You just slowly stop knowing who they’re becoming.
And somewhere out there, a version of you exists that I’ll never meet.

A version shaped by days I wasn’t there for.

By victories I never got to celebrate.

By tears I never got to wipe away.

By a life that continued without me.

Sometimes I hope you’re happy.

Sometimes I hope you miss me.

Sometimes I hope both are true.

Because if I’m being honest…
The hardest part isn’t that you left.
It’s knowing that every single day, you become someone new…

And I only get to remember who you used to be.

I hope, every now and then, when the world slows down and the night grows quiet, you think of me too.

Not with regret.

Not with guilt.

Just with the gentle ache reserved for people who once felt like home.

Because no matter where life carried us…
A part of me still wonders if, somewhere beneath the same night sky, you’re wondering how I’ve been too.