I wish I had the power to watch people. After longing deeply for a person for such a long time they become a permanent fixture. Part of the scenery, a piece of the furniture. You mould their absence to fit neatly inside yourself.

They're your kidney. Or your liver. You start to depend upon them being where you need them, to keep you going.

The truth is, I'm weaker than you think. As in, not as strong as you.

You could almost pretend to be watching them go about life: brushing their teeth, walking carefully across creaking floorboards, unfolding their bed sheets and slipping under the coolness.

Just to see them would be a comfort. It would ease off the jagged edge of that feeling that weighs down your steps, dampens the delicate skin around your eyes, churns up your stomach acids. Ever so slightly digging into your side, a sore spot starting; spreading.

It becomes a part of you, the absence, just as the person themselves. An absence which can cause a tear to trickle or an avalanche of snow to fall upon you.

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