We do this until our minds think you are here

I woke up with a poem in my head. In my sleep, I was writing a poem for you. I don't remember much of it, and the part I do remember, I only have it still because I wrote it down the moment I woke up.

"And we do this until our minds think you are here"

I do remember what I was thinking about though. It was about how when people miss others, we replay the memories in our head, thinking of the could haves and should haves. The person is always on your mind. You can't rid yourself of them. They have become a part of you. When they are with you, they are a part of you because they are with you.  When they are gone, and you know they will be back, like after you are done hanging out, but you know there will be a tomorrow, they are a part of you in your heart. Your heart feels their absence, but your mind knows they will be back. And then there is when they are gone, and you don't know if they will be back. They have said goodbye and you don't know if there will ever be a tomorrow, that's when they are a part of your head. Your heart is empty, and your head knows they won't be back. Your head knows you need them, so the missing person becomes a part of you in how you think and how you act. When you miss them, a part of you imitates them, to fill the void they have left. And we do this until our minds think you are here.

We imitate them in small ways. If they drank tea, I find someone who drinks tea. It sounds silly, but I feel like I need someone in my life who drinks tea now. I needed someone to tell me nice things, and the person I thought would replace him didn't. That's when I realized I didn't like the guy I was with, I liked the qualities that he possessed that reminded me of the person I was missing. I find myself doing things he used to do. I will say things he used to say. It makes me feel like he's still here. It lets me hear the things he would say, even if it's just me who is saying it. My mind will always doing this because I don't think he will ever be back here.

love, savannah