Miss You So…

Miss.

It’s a simple, four-letter, one-syllable, word. Somehow though, it’s really all there is to describe a rather immense feeling.

Sure, you could use a synonym such as “to yearn for, to long for, to ache for;” yet all of those combined don’t always do justice to convey the gaping hole that’s left when being apart from someone that, if there IS some master plan to life, you were never meant to be apart from. Attempting to use the words in the English language to describe this feeling is like trying to use monochromatic vocabulary to tell a blind man what a sunset looks like.

Then again, I’m not even sure that missing someone is even really a feeling. Real love isn’t a feeling, it’s an action and a state of being and I really don’t think that missing someone intensely is any different.

Our modern world (although in a decade or two, we may look back and laugh at the fact that today we think we’re “modern”) has given us ways to try and reduce the sting of separation. We have mail, email, instant messaging, telephones, cell phones, pictures, and postcards. Although those can be great for keeping up on events in the life of the person you’re far away from, they do nothing to lessen the pain of being apart. Many times they seem more like a tease, like giving a stale donut to someone dying of hunger.

I think communication might be a little easier if we humans weren’t restricted to the ways that we are. It might be a little weird, but it’d be nice to be telepathic or empathic and be able to let the other person experience just how big the chasm inside them is when they’re apart. Granted, it probably wouldn’t change the situation or circumstances but sometimes it’s nice just to know that someone knows how you feel.

With the exception of a handful of days out of the year, I’m always missing someone. Last weekend was one of those exceptions, and it was great. Then I got back this week and have been working like mad, which has had me preoccupied a bit. In a way it’s kind of nice to have a bit of a distraction (because hauling 16 foot wide, pre-made prison cells down the highway requires a bit of attention and concentration). Then again, I also kind of feel bad for being distracted and not missing people “properly.”

All I know is that it sucks. I wish there was a real-life remedy to the whole distance problem.

*
“I don’t know if I am real without you
What is left of me without you?
I don’t know what’s real without you
How can I exist without you?”
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Stabbing Westward