I found this written down, and I’d love to hear what you guys think it’s about.
I catch myself looking for you. I don’t mean to, but I find myself looking in the faces of the people on the street, in crowds at the supermarket, in the car next me on my drive home just to get a glimpse of your face. I expect to see you on the other side of Wal-Mart, when I stand in that one spot that you can see from one side of the store to the other.
I know I’m not supposed to look for you. I know you’re not going to be there and it’s breaks me each time I think I do see you. It’s not you, it’s never you. I don’t know why I look. I don’t know why I open myself to such pain. It’s stupid. I know better. I’m not sure I’d even recognize you if I even saw you; your face is a faded memory, almost an ethereal dream that I keep trying to force in this harshly lit life.
You’re my world. You’re my life. I feel like half a man without you here by my side. Everyday seems like a shell of itself. Even these phrases seem cliché and powerless. They don’t convey the feeling or the longing or anything.
Nothing is the same without you. Watching a movie isn’t the same without you there, to snuggle, to laugh with. Dinner is such a lonely time. There’s no one to talk to, to discuss the deeper things of life, to share an anecdote with. Just me alone with my food. There’s one plate. One glass. One fork and one knife. Each one taken from its kind and used, alone. Then discarded dirty. It’s like even my dishes recognized this loneliness, this disparity of eating by yourself.
But I press on. It’s what you would want. To be strong. To live my life and be happy. I hold this tiny, flicking flame against this darkness and against despair, knowing that one day we will be together.
So what was the author saying? Who was he saying it to? How did it make you feel? Why does this seem like an english prompt?