Running

I wish I knew if there was something I could do. Turning back the clocks simply isn't an option, but I'm sure there must be something. Because I actually really miss you. We were running at the same speed for such a long time, completely in sync, but you've sprinted into the distance and forgotten to look back. I think they call it moving on. But you just moved onwards. I don't think we were running in a race, I never pictured a finish line. It was about the journey, not the destination. But now you're running so fast that I don't know if I'll ever catch up. But it's not about the speed. It's about the distance. You want to be as far as possible. And I don't blame you. And as much as it would have hurt me that you just ran away, it hurts more that you never said why. You thought about it, teased me, 'we need to talk'. But then you legged it, faster than lightning into the vanishing distance. You've passed the sound barrier and hurdled over the horizon. Gone. And I fucking miss you. I miss you so much.