I'm Missing

I miss you. I missed you before I knew you. I missed you when i met you. I miss you when I'm with you and when I'm not. I miss the past you weren't in and the present you are in. I miss the future with you. I miss you much I like I miss the children I haven't given birth to, the memories I haven't made and the things I haven't felt. I miss you like the things I don't know, but that affect me very much simply because i don't know them. I miss you like something that was meant to be, but is not and may never be. It leaves a hole where no one but my perception can feel the emptiness. I don't care if this sounds irrational. I don't care if it doesn't make sense to anyone but me. I am glad I have this ability. Its deep and rich and it creates spaces to be filled by things that exist because of the grief. It doesn't have to be rational to be important. It doesn't have to be understood by human minds to be real. It is mine to have and to hold for as long as I choose. It is mine to explore, love and use. It is a secret between me and me and the One who made me and understands what no one else ever will. I can't say it feels good, but neither does the burn I feel in my muscles when i push them to a new level. Over time my mind can associate pain as a good thing for what it produces and who it allows me to be. I will carry this cross and not just endure, but gratefully praise The Father for the weight of it, the splinters, the awkwardness and the sadness. I miss you because you are more than I can understand and yet you stand in front of me as though you are finite. You are not. You are housed in finitity, but you contain traces of eternity right now that shed light on dark places inside me. My unaccustomed eyes shut tight as i try to unbelieve what has just been proven. It hurts. It hurts that you exist. I want you to go away as soon as possible so I can stop missing you. There is closure in definiteness. There is no relief in uncertainty unless I enjoy it as i would a pleasant surprise, but I don't. It aches. I fear the ache, I remember the ache and I project the ache. I cannot escape it unless I create definitity. I keep trying unsuccessfully. Please go away. I don't seem to have what it takes to walk away. I'll scream and curse your back as you go. Then I'll weep with remorse and beat myself to a bloody pulp. But once that passes I will be stronger, more independent and less likely to drag out this kind of hopeless hope again quite like this time. I always end up respecting the ones who give me space. Space is different then shutting the heart off and abandoning. It has similar looking colors, but it is nothing the same. It is the quiet power that is compelling beyond the most eloquent words. It is the most amazing withness possible. Knowing I am loved from an adult distance, but feeling held like a sleeping child.