missing

Do our dreams carry messages from the great beyond, sent by the people we have lost, or are they a reflection of our desperation and wishful thinking?

People come and go, some stay for a while some leave soon. But when they go they take away the memories, promises, dreams and a part of my life.

What's wrong with people?" she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. "Were they born with parts missing or did it fall out somewhere along the way?

7amThey said that I__ forget you,and I knew it wasn__ true.But sometimes I wake up now,and my heart__ no longer blue.I press the Keurig button,dancing across the room__ometimes it__ nearly seven,before I__e thought of you.And though we sleep together,all night side by side,one day I__l have my coffeewithout you in my mind.

MY MOONI'll always wonder what time it is there; if you're dreaming, or awake. My moon is your sun; my darkness, your light. I'm in the future, you'd jokingly say.And I know where you are, because I'm watching you from the past.

You can ache for where you come from, and it's homesickness. A relationship, and it's heartbreak. But is there a word for missing your friends like that?

People are... Full of contradictions. They're lonely. And then they're not. They're missed. And then they're not.

A POCKET-SIZED GIRLHe keeps me in his pocket for a rainy day; he swears I'm not an object as he yo-yo's me away.A friend is what we'll call it,but my friend, he does not know,each time it rains I love him_ so to his pocket, I must go.He thinks he's being clever,but I am not a fool;his love ain't worth a penny,so to my heart I must be cruel.

A WISHSometimes I wish that he will liveand I will see him.But mostly I wish that he will die, and take my memories with him.

WORTHYIf you ever decide to feel_ feel this:I love you. I always have. I always will.Not because you're charming, beautiful or lovable.But because I choose you.Everyday I wake up and I choose you_ again, and again, and again.But if you cannot feel, and if you never feel this, then know:I do not love you. I never have. I never will.Because you're not worth my love.(Come back my love, I am drowning.)

You know that I love you quite a lot --But sometimes... not. Sometimes not.I don't know why.I guess IJust hate you sometimes,Because sometimes I even hate myself,And she loves you.

He tried to tell me week after week to accept things as they were and move on with my life. But if there was one man who had put his life on hold to wait for something or someone, it was him.

You had me at HelloYou had me at hello, but now it__ time to say goodbye.Whilst my lungs draw breath and my heart beats a steady beat, beside me, for you there will always be a seat.You my special friend brought laughter and smiles that knew no end.Although physically you may be gone, my memories of you will live on and on.I know within my soul once again that we shall meet and when we do,that seat is still reserved especially for you.You had me at hello, for now my friend I say goodbye.

Every single time you crossed over for me and met me on my side. I realize now, I don't think I ever met you in the middle. And I don't think I ever once said that you for that.

I HOLDIf I could have had him,I could have let himgo.But withoutthe having there was nothing__o to the nothingIhold.

I won__ let you have it. I won__ give you this moment. I won__ let you fill up this valuable organ...I own it. I won__ do it. I can__ think, I won__ think about it.

If the portraits of our absent friends are pleasant to us, which renew our memory of them and relieve our regret for their absence by a false and empty consolation, how much more pleasant are letters which bring us the written characters of the absent friend.

How could I miss you while you are never off of my mind.....while you are never missing from my heart