11:11

It’s 11:11 and I miss you. 

I saw your face on my computer screen this evening. 

One of many video clips I have of you and I.

What used to be us.

Damn you’re beautiful.

That’s one of the main reasons i knew you for as long as I did.

That smile of yours.

The diamond shape of your face. 

The pretty medium brown to your skin.

I miss how you smell.

How you could make me laugh even when I didn’t want to.

11:11.

Should I make a wish for you. 

For you to reach out?

I’m hesitant because I remember why I left.

The arguing.

The miscommunication.

The DMs from other people who wanted to be us.

I miss you still.

Why would I let myself love you—get close to you for longer than the fling you were meant to be?

The only answer I can come up with is because you felt good to me.

You felt good for me. 

Like a piece of my soul family who was destined to meet me. 

I’m sorry for how we ended.

For the things I said and couldn’t say. 

I’m sorry we turned love into war. 

Pushed to the brink where we can’t even pretend to be friends. 

11:11.

I’ll still make a wish. 

I wish you positivity and joy.

I pray you’re protected. 

I wish that you continue to believe in yourself despite the company you keep. 

11:11.

More importantly.

I wish you never ever forget who you were for me.

In your darkest days I hope you remember that you were my light. 

Shining as if to show me it’s never been hard. 

I wish for you to keep that light. 

But what you illuminate now I hope to never know.