Some things are better off written. I am walking almost too sure into a dead alley. No possible way out through, so I better go back, and that implies this, memories, feelings. I was hurt, and that is a fact. One that is oh! So hard to admit, yet obvious to anyone with eyes and ears. I love you in a strong color red, that moves and changes in all of its shades. I miss you. But YOU, it's a word so simple and so inaccurate. The next sentence is a bit narcissist yet the most precise; I miss what you made me feel. You made me feel protected and in company when I did not want to be alone, and even when I wanted it you'd given me space and made me feel strong.You complimented me and I believed those silly lovable words. That you can only think that someone deeply corny or in love could bring them up in a conversation. I miss laughing by the stupidest subjects. I miss the warmth of your arms in the cold days. I miss the calls before sleeping, I miss that you never forget to say you loved me before you hang up the phone. I miss you thought of me as your friend and told me everything, even the hard things. I miss the kindness, the hopeful and naïve conversations about the future. I miss to feel special. I miss the things that are unable to express with words. I miss being a child around you. I guess I do miss, you.