Sundays

Sundays aren't the same; they are beautiful, but not the same.
I missed looking out today and watching you smile. I missed seeing you watch the screen and listen to every word. I missed seeing you make notes with your left hand.

Wonder when I will stop missing you....

I dreamt the other night that we met in an airport. We talked forever. I told you that I had missed you, and you were so suprised. Then I woke. The next night I fell asleep, you were walking towards me in another dream. This time you told me that you had missed me too. You reached out your arms and drew me in close. I awoke.

I am so tired of dancing around dreams. I wish I could just tell you what I am feeling. I wish I could just know what you thought. I know that I had to have imagined everything....but then I wonder......

Will I ever stop missing you, love? Will it ever stop hurting so incredibly?