#8: i miss when... 🤧

In my last newsletter, I talked about taking breaks and sleeping at normal human hours.

While I haven't quite mastered either yet (it's currently 2:14 AM as I write this), something else has been on my mind lately.

A small girl was sitting in the exact spot where I had sat in October.

The coffee wasn't great (never really was), but that never seemed to matter when the company was right.

There's something about returning to places that hold memories that stir up all these feelings of missing...

Some random things I miss:

I miss the way sunlight used to feel on summer mornings when I was ten and had nowhere to be.

I miss sandwiches from that one outlet that closed recently.

I miss conversations that flow so easily you don't notice four hours have passed.

I miss falling asleep without thinking about tomorrow's to-do list.

I miss the confidence I had before I knew failure was an option.

I miss handwritten letters that took days to write and days to receive a reply.

I miss reading books without checking my phone every chapter.

I miss when music felt like it was made just for me.

I miss train journeys where the scenery slowly changes outside your window.

I miss having endless energy to stay up all night and still feel alive the next day.

I miss ice cream that drips down the cone faster than you can lick it.

I miss the days when plans were made by showing up at someone's door.

I miss that feeling when someone truly gets your weird sense of humor.

I miss being excited to check my notifications.

I miss thunderstorms viewed from balconies with hot tea in hand.

I miss believing everything would work out exactly as I imagined.

I miss inside jokes that no one else understands.

I miss the smell of rain before it falls.

I miss cities I've never been to but somehow feel like home because of the stories I've heard about them.

I miss the version of myself that existed in certain moments that can't be recreated.

I miss the weight of someone's head resting on my lap.

I miss when birthdays felt magical instead of just another reminder of time passing.

I miss dancing without caring how I looked.

I miss having nothing to do and not feeling guilty about it.

I miss when a single song could change my entire mood.

I miss the sound of certain laughter that made everything else fade away.

It's strange how missing works.

Some things we've lost forever. Others are just temporarily misplaced. Some are specific people, while others are feelings, moments, or versions of ourselves we can't get back.

And sometimes, in the quiet spaces between all this missing, I find myself missing someone whose absence feels particularly present today.

Until next time.

P.S. Sharing makes the missing feel a little less heavy.