Missing you

 I miss you.

I always miss you so.

The second you leave,

I miss you.

 And even before sometimes.

I swear I miss you

even before you leave,

knowing that parting time is getting closer.

I've learnt to love you

missing you all the time.

Sometimes the missing is 

bitter sweet,

bearable, hopeful.

Othertimes it's searing hot,

hard and unbearably sad.

Then I tell you about it.

And you somehow feel responsible

for my missing you

and you get angry for 'me not being reasonable',

because it's hard enough for you

trying to contain your own missing of me,

but mine,my sadness for missing you

that is too much for you.

And you get distant and angry

for my missing you like that

because your being distant somehow

makes parting sadness

more bearable...

Until next time....