I miss her.

More than I thought I ever would. More than I should. More than I know how to say.

Her name’s still on this coffee cup.

Stupid, I know. I haven’t thrown it away.

It's a little faded now...just a black marker stain. But I can't let it go...I can't bring myself to throw it away.

It was from Starbucks.

She made the waitress laugh so much because she wrote her name correctly.

My God, she was so happy. She grinned like a kid.

And I took a picture.

I still have it. Hidden, but not deleted.

I miss how she picked out the movies.

Always The Boy who Lived, even when I tried to argue for thrillers. I pretended to roll my eyes, but in the end, I was watching her more than the screen.

Or maybe I just liked watching her mutter the scenes to herself.

She cried during the same scenes every time..and I loved it.

I wish I'd told her that back then.

Maybe I wouldn't be driving past her house now, hoping to see something that might hurt me, just to feel close to her again.

Every time the lights are on...I know she's not alone..

I miss her singing next to the kitchen sink, thinking I wasn't listening. But I was.

Every note, every word, every smile in her voice...I remember it all.

I never told her how much I love it.

I wonder if he knows that she likes to sleep on the right side, but somehow still takes up the whole bed.

That she hates folding laundry but love the smell of it.

If he knows that she never finishes a drink and always forgets where she put her phone...If he knows what her favorite Starbucks drink is..that she loves M&M's.

If he makes her laugh like I make her laugh.

If she still says the same things she used to say only to me.

No one makes me feel the way you do.

I miss the chaos.

The mess she left in my car, laughing at my complaints and saying it 'adds character'.

The arguments about directions. How she stole my hoodies and pretended she hadn't heard me asking for them back.

I wish I could go back to when we still argued about movie genres and takeaway orders.

Back when she still called me 'Lan' or 'Muppet' with that stupid little grin.

Back when I could hold her without wondering if it was the last time.

Back when I was still hers.

She made me better.

She was everything I’m not.

And now I'm just someone she's forgot.

I tell myself she's happy. Maybe that's enough. But deep down, I'm still clinging to a thousand unspoken things.

I wish it was a year ago.

I wish that I could hold her close.

I wish that I could tell her that I miss her.