What's been going on? What have you been up to?

You did

the things that no one else has.
You just held me. And talked to me. And sang to me. And held my hand.
All we did was laugh, and talk, and sleep.
And when I felt my chest rising and falling along with yours, it was like I was home.
You are what I want, and yet I feel like it may be too good to be true.
You liking me. And keeping me warm.
You told me you don’t want to be strangers.
It was the closest I’ve ever felt without even needing to get closer.
Our looks and smiles from across the room entice me and fool me into thinking I’m the reason.
It’s like breathing—liking you. Because for the first time, I don’t have to do anything.
And from the day I met you, I felt it in my bones.
I appreciate you. And all that you are. And your kind touches on my back when I pass by. And you asking me to finish my stories that I never really knew how to begin and make it make sense.
Even interrupted, it was unfinished.
So thank you for allowing me to feel. To inhale without needing to please anyone else.
It is a first for me.
Your voice is like dripping honey. Thick, and sweet.
To have talent is one thing.
To be someone as nice as you is another.
I think you’re definitely going somewhere.
I just hope I’m still there holding your hand.

Hey . . . How are you doing? It's been a while.

Well I miss you.

I'm sure that s/he misses you too.

What do you mean?

Who do you miss?