What is missing someone? It begins when a part of our soul is suddenly ripped away. That piece feels and hurts like a phantom limb. A reminder of the messages of good days and good nights that no longer come and we wonder if they will ever return.
Do we really miss the other person? Or do we miss the greetings and caresses that are part of the daily routine? A bit of the life we used to know.
The more the moments merge with the labyrinths of the heart, the more pain is felt in the holes that will become scars. Life goes on and time, with its hands, rebuilds the rifts that never stop screaming, but their voices are drowned out with every sunset and moonset.
That is scary. It scares us to know that no matter how many tears are born from the recorded memories, time will heal whatever is needed, until one day we will open our eyes and can say: “It doesn’t hurt anymore”.
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