I sit here waiting to feel or hear something from you.

I miss you.

In my greatest moments of mountain peaks and gentle snow, you were there.
In my toughest moments where I did not even have the energy to think of hope, you were there.

But even the ordinary, where the day-to-day seems useless and unexciting, you are still with me.

How can you miss something that was never gone?

Maybe I don't miss you.

Maybe at my weakest, it was I that had forgotten you.