Sometimes I miss you most when you’re sitting right next to me. If you weren’t there I wouldn’t be reminded how much we’ve both changed. But when you are, when I can feel you close but still distant, holding yourself away from even accidental contact, it’s like the ocean has suddenly risen up leaving us on opposite sides of the world.
I know it used to be different, we’d laugh and joke, talk and cry, but holding on to those memories is like trying to hold on to my shadow. They’re always there, with me wherever I go, but they lack any detail, they’re flat, just absence. You were once the light, bringing everything into focus, and now you’re the dark void where light used to be.
I miss you, and I think you miss me. You are my shadow, and I think I’m yours too.
The Write Site 
This is in my top five of the prose you have written. Have read it three times and it still delights.
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