I miss the boy who used to cheer me up by telling me it was nearly Christmas, even in July.
I miss the girl who cut out rose petals on different coloured sheets of paper, then twisted them all together and posted them to you, one colour representing one aspect of us.
I miss the boy who used to take me on drives with no destination, letting me pick the exits at each roundabout until we found somewhere new.
I miss the girl who paid attention to the smell of the dip of your collar bone, and the smoothness of your tummy.
I miss the boy who sent me badges and postcards when you picked them up, because you saw them and thought of me.
I miss the girl who sang a song so we could dance on the floorboards together.
I miss the people, sat on the sofa, singing to the last night of the proms, with the puppy howling alongside us. So much laughter.
I miss you, I miss me. I don’t know who we’ve become, but we’re not those beautiful, light-filled people anymore. Where did they go?