Maybe You Don’t Miss Them

Missing someone is extremely inconvenient.

Especially when you’ve already decided you’re over them.

You’ve reflected.

You’ve grown.

You’ve had several breakthroughs.

There may have been a haircut.

And then one random Tuesday your brain goes:

Remember ‘them’?

No?

Excellent. Let’s think about them for the next four hours.

But I’ve been wondering if sometimes when we say, “I miss BLANK,” we’re actually describing a bunch of completely different things.

Maybe you miss them.

• But maybe you miss having someone to text when something funny happens.

• Maybe you miss Sunday mornings.

• Maybe you miss feeling chosen.

• Maybe you miss the future you quietly built in your head.

Or maybe you miss yourself.

• The person you were around them.

• The version of you who existed before everything changed.

We bundle all of that together and call it missing someone.

Then naturally assume it means we want them back.

But those might be two completely different things.

You can miss something without wanting to return to it.

You can grieve a future without believing it should have happened.

You can miss who you were without missing who you were with.

Which makes me wonder:

When we miss someone, what are we actually missing?

• The person?

• The life?

• The feeling?

• Ourselves?

It’s extremely inconsiderate of the human experience to have this many answers.