miss u
when i go up to the roof you’re already there, sitting on the edge with your legs dangling.
the summer breeze playfully lifts your hair. the sun reflects off links in the fence. it was probably supposed to prevent people from getting too close to the edge, but they only put it along one side of the roof. we used to glue yarn to pieces of sea glass and hang them up there to make colorful sunbeams on the cracked concrete.
you would sit up here watching them for hours... sometimes you brought a small canvas and the acrylic paints i got you. you could never quite get the colors right.
and you would turn to show me your attempt at painting and laugh, and i would pretend i had been reading and not committing your smile to memory. your joy was blinding, and i had to look away, towards the setting sun. it’s not as bright as you.
we haven’t seen each other in weeks. you hear the door close behind me and you’re already on your feet, arms outstretched. i run, and you catch me as you always have.
i’ve missed you.
“you know i love you, right?”
so much.
“yeah,” your arms a reassuring weight around my waist. “i know.”
it’s so easy to picture the smile i hear in your voice.
“i love you too.”
