Missing your stupid voice. Your accent. The way you look at me. The way you laugh when I say something funny that catches you off guard. The one 'lone locke of hair that falls so perfectly over your face when you're talking to me. Pulling that said locke behind your ear. Waking up and staring deep into your soul while you stare back into mine. The way the light came in through my window to spill gold all over you. The way your skin just absorbed the sun. The way yoyr fingertips dug into my skin. When you told me you were just trying to keep this professional, but you couldn't take your eyes or your hands off me.When I was mad at you, but still showed up to set and endured your torture. I miss kissing your pain away. Each and everyone of your freckles. And when you would tell me the things you love about me. I miss being too tired to kiss you back and fervently waking up to kiss you because I knew that soon you wouldn't be there anymore. I miss the way you told me how scared you were of the future. I miss our little talks about life and the universe and why we do the things we do. I miss showing each other the bits and pieces of ourselves that we were too afraid to show anyone else. I miss that we don't talk anymore. I miss that you are not my world. I miss that I am not yours. I miss you so much but I don't know even why anymore.