Here I am telling her how much I miss her while she's probably sound asleep.
But it's not just at two in the morning, or three, or four. I miss her all the time. Everything about her every detail.
I miss her big curious blue eyes that stare directly into the back of my head and the soft fresh scented blonde hair that falls ever so smoothly after running my fingers through it gently I miss watching the way her bottom lip would protrude outwards looking more plump than it was when she would smile wide. Her face would light up too. It was like a bright strike of lightning hitting her flushed cheeks, sparking a flame in her lonely heart. Happiness? I don't know. I don't remember the last time she said she truly felt happy.
