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Do we only miss the dead?
<p>Do we only miss the dead?<br/></p><p>I used to think grief belonged to cemeteries, to funerals, to names carved into stone. But some of the deepest losses still walk this earth.</p><p>The hardest goodbye was not to a lover, but to the friend I found inside one. The person who knew my silences, who held on to my stories, who made ordinary moments feel like home. When the love ended, that friendship disappeared with it, and somehow that hurt more.</p><p>I think of them every now and then. Whenever I hear the song that played the night we were together. I can’t forget it. Whenever I remember inside jokes that no longer have a place to land. Not enough to stop my day, but enough to remind me that they once lived in every corner of it.</p><p>Maybe that's why some people are so difficult to lose. They leave carrying pieces of us we trusted them with. A version of our laughter. Our secrets. Our softness. And sometimes they walk away with those pieces and never give them back.</p><p>It’s not our fault it didn’t work but life had other plans. We may be broken now but we’ll get over it eventually. </p><p>So no, I don't think we only miss the dead. Sometimes we miss the living more, because they are still out there somewhere, holding a part of us that we still recognize as our own.</p><p><br/></p>
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