I love hearing I love you as much as the next person. I admit that I’m not the best at offering the sentiment. I’m not entirely sure why, nor am I particularly interested in the underlying psychology, but I love you is often awkward in my mouth; the edges sharp and dangerous, its texture rough and metallic tasting. It feels foreign though I make myself say it anyway.
But those 3 words aren’t the ones that do me in. For me, “I miss you” is my undoing. There is something about the longing in it, the wanting and craving laced in every word. The need to replace something missing. In the French literally meaning, “You are missing from me.”
It could be perhaps because I find love to be a state of being. When you love someone, when you are in love, there is a beautiful type of being that is inherent in the feeling. But to miss someone feels more like an action, with someone valuable being missing from you demanding urgent and immediate action to right this absence that feels so wrong. And I, ruled entirely by big, bold, sentiment, easily get swept away in urgent action.
Though I find comfort in the peaceful lull of being in love, I am not someone who doesn’t need to be wanted, craved when I am missing- wholly, passionately. Because otherwise, what’s the point?
But I am undone by, “I miss you.”
Please do not leave me undone.