I Miss Someone, Somewhere

I miss someone, somewhere. She is stale, she is a ghost, her features completely changed by a source I do not know. A source that we both drove and did not. I hurt and we hurt together in the facade that was our friendship, but I enjoyed it. Did you? Because now that I'm better I've reached out to grab the air where your arm should be. And once again I feel the white, aching pain of loneliness that teeters on the edge of stupidity. Why should I waste my precious breath reaching out after our mistakes and be met with a stone wall of white? I recognize this idiocy with great irritability but cannot stop. I'll tell you why: the fond memories are too good to pass up.