I'm missing you, but I am so glad that I have you to miss. What is here is only what is not here and I feel your presence even when there's an ocean between us. The smiles and the warmth stay here with me as a deepness in my chest. It's the indent you leave in the pillow next to me even after you've gone to get coffee. The distance in miles, in minutes, in weeks all lead up to my heart beating out of my ribcage to the beat of your drums, to the embrace that I crave constantly. Lips locked lops, locked fingers, and the next time i see you I'm going to paint your face with invisible kisses.

I must try to understand what it could mean to not be alive
What is the opposite of being alive?
Death?
Death is so unknown, yet so is being alive.
How can two opposites be so unknown?
I'm feeling lost.