(For Marg)

I miss you constantly.
I have for years now.
You’ve been my other half,
for as long as I can remember.
My sister, my best friend,
my mirror, and my touchstone.

Some days, I don’t know
how I survive
without you here.

It feels like a piece of my soul is missing.

There are moments
when the silence is too loud,
and I wish I could reach across the miles
just to hear your laugh,
to sit beside you,
to feel the calm that only you bring.

We speak in glances,
finish each other’s sentences,
wrap entire conversations
into a single raised eyebrow.
Now, the phone tries to carry what it can,
but it’s never enough.

I miss the small things the most.
Coffee together in the morning,
late-night talks in pajamas.
The unspoken comfort
of simply knowing
you were close by.

Life keeps moving,
but a part of me feels paused.
Waiting for the chapter
when we find our way back
to the same city,
the same sky,
the same rhythm.

I know there will be a day
when we no longer live so far apart.
I hold onto that like a promise.
Because if there isn’t,
if this distance never closes,
I don’t think my heart,
nor yours,
could take the weight.

Even across all this space,
you’re still my home.
And one day,
I’ll walk through the door,
you’ll be there,
and it will feel like it should.